


only the sun has come this close // only the sun

by anbethmarie



Category: Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery, Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: Engagement, F/M, Fluff, Getting to Know Each Other, Idiots in Love, Made For Each Other, No Smut, but God are they thirsty for each other, honestly there's no plot here other than that they are, lots of dialogue probably, major fluff honestly, so don't be disappointed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-07-05 13:19:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 31,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15864414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anbethmarie/pseuds/anbethmarie
Summary: Anne & Gilbert are safely engaged, and therefore free to engage in fluff with an admixture of serious conversations.A sequel to 'say my name, don't ever stop'.





	1. your fingers dimming the light / like you're used to being told that you're trouble

‘Good afternoon, Miss Cuthbert,’ said Mrs Barry, holding a very disgruntled Minnie May by the hand and smiling anxiously. ‘I’m extremely sorry to intrude, but we happen to have a small emergency. Is Anne home?’

‘Anne? Yes, I think she’s somewhere – somewhere about. Has something happened? Can we help you in any way?’ asked Marilla, looking with raised eyebrows at the decked-out mother and the fidgeting daughter.

‘Yes – that is, provided Anne would be willing to look after Minnie May for a few hours. My husband has to go up to Charlottetown immediately to see to some unexpected business, and I thought I’d accompany him and do some overdue shopping. I don’t want to drag Minnie May unnecessarily about, and Diana isn’t home, so if Anne wouldn’t mind—‘

‘Why, of course,’ replied Marilla, giving the little girl in question her best attempt at a friendly smile. ‘Anne is probably somewhere at the back of the house. I’ll go fetch her.’

‘Oh, don’t trouble yourself, I can just take Minnie May there—‘

‘No, no!’ exclaimed Marilla rather vehemently, realising suddenly that, in all probability, Anne was not alone. Mrs Barry stared a little, a Marilla went on hurriedly, ‘She’s probably hidden away in some nook or another, and you would only waste your time looking for her. Wait just a minute, and I’ll fetch her here.’

Stepping out of the back door into the golden sunlight of the September afternoon, Marilla congratulated herself on preventing Mrs Barry from going in search of Anne in time.  
That dainty lady’s opinion about the way Anne Shirley had matured into such a responsible, well-behaved young woman might have suffered a considerable shock if she had encountered the sight Marilla saw before her now.

There, under one of the drooping willow trees, lay Anne, peacefully asleep, curled up and looking the very picture of innocence except for the tiny, insignificant fact that her head was resting cosily on the chest of Gilbert Blythe. The latter was asleep as well, one of his long arms wrapped tightly around Anne’s waist.

Marilla’s first thought – one which made her utter a little prayer of thankfulness for the fact that Gilbert and Anne had managed at last to come to an understanding – was of how blissfully peaceful and contented Anne’s face looked as she lay thus by Gilbert’s side. And Marilla knew well that Anne often, even after almost five years of living at Green Gables, had nightmares that made her cry in her sleep. 

However, the fact that Marilla trusted the son of John Blythe implicitly as far as Anne’s physical and mental wellbeing was concerned did not in the least mean that she put a similar amount of trust in Anne when it came to behaving within the boundaries of decorum; and the sight she encountered now was proof positive that she was right not to.

‘Anne! For God’s sake, child, wake up!’ Marilla hissed piercingly, bending down a little over the drowsing couple. 

Rather to her discomfiture, it was Gilbert, not Anne, whose eyes snapped open first. 

‘Miss Cuthbert?’ he blinked up at her dazedly. Marilla pursed up her lips, trying not to let on how amused she was by the situation.

Gilbert’s bewildered gaze flew to the head of coppery hair that was resting on his chest, and he blushed. ‘Anne,’ he said awkwardly, putting his hand on her shoulder and shaking it gently. ‘Anne, wake up.’

Anne moaned in protest, burying her face deeper in his shirt. Gilbert blushed more furiously still. 

Marilla, uncomfortably aware that Mrs Barry was in their immediate proximity and might as well be making for the backyard at this very moment, lost her patience and pulled Anne’s shoulder rather sharply. 

‘You idiot, what are you—‘ wheezed Anne, sitting bolt upright. ‘Marilla?’ she asked in bewilderment, noticing the woman towering above them with a disapproving frown on her face. ‘Is something wrong?’

‘You really have a nerve to ask that, considering the circumstances, Anne Shirley,’ replied Marilla tersely. ‘But we can talk about that later. Get off the ground, make yourself look decent, and come with me. And hurry, for heaven’s sake.’

‘Miss Cuthbert, this really wasn’t— we were just—‘ stuttered Gilbert, who had meanwhile sprung up and was standing with his hands hanging awkwardly by his sides. 

‘Gilbert, you of all people should know by now that this girl is perfectly capable of speaking for herself,’ Marilla cut him off uncompromisingly. 

Anne scrambled to her feet and shot an inquiring glance at the discomfited Gilbert. He shook his head, shrugging his shoulders slightly.

Marilla huffed. ‘Come, Anne,’ she snapped, turning around and walking with firm steps in the direction of the house. 

Gilbert put his hands in his pockets and gave Anne a crooked, apologetic smile. She blew him a kiss, mouthed “wait here”, and trotted off after Marilla.

***

‘Mothers are insufferable,’ announced Minnie May, settling herself down demurely on the blanket Anne and Gilbert had been napping on. ‘Don’t you think so, Anne?’

Anne was sitting across from the younger girl; Gilbert, who had always been in Minnie May’s good graces and was therefore graciously allowed to stay, had seated himself cross-legged beside Anne. He kept one of her hands locked in his, rubbing small circles on the back of her palm with his thumb. 

‘I think you’re very lucky to have a mother who cares about you so much, Minnie May,’ Anne replied in an appropriately serious voice. ‘The truth is that whenever your mother forbids you to or makes you do something, she has your good at heart. I know it’s difficult for you to understand,’ she added, seeing the little girl roll her eyes at the words. ‘To be honest, your mother used to have no end of trouble with me and Diana when I first came to live here.’

‘Did she ever get to know about the time you jumped a freight?’ Gilbert enquired with mischievous innocence in his voice. ‘I’ve always meant to ask you that.’

‘You did what?’ asked Minnie May uncomprehendingly.

Anne gave Gilbert a vicious shove in the ribs with her elbow. ‘Nothing, Minnie May. Ignore him. He thinks it’s funny when he talks nonsense on purpose to annoy me.’

‘Yes, boys are stupid like that,’ agreed Minnie May sagely, crinkling up her nose. ‘That’s why I’m not friends with any. Why are you friends with Gilbert, Anne, if he’s not nice to you?’

‘Indeed, why am I?’ laughed Anne, smiling provocatively up at the still smirking Gilbert. She tugged at his arm to make him lower his head so as to be able to reach his ear. ‘Perhaps because he’s such a good kisser,’ she whispered, and planted a quick peck on his earlobe. 

Gilbert narrowed his eyes, looking into hers from close up. Anne’s gaze flickered to his mouth, and she bit her lip. He clenched his jaw, his throat bobbing up and down.

‘Do you think you were more naughty than me when you were a little girl, Anne?’ Minnie May’s voice broke in on the electrified silence between them, making Gilbert and Anne sit up and apart rather abruptly.

‘Definitely yes,’ Anne replied with decision, and, hearing Gilbert snicker beside her, gave his fingers, which were still locked with hers, a warning squeeze. ‘But never intentionally. It’s just that I didn’t have a wise mother like yours, who could teach me what was right and what was wrong.’

‘You had no mommy?’ asked Minnie May, her eyes wide with astonishment.

‘No,’ said Anne simply, feeling Gilbert’s fingers tighten their hold on hers.

‘Who did you have then? A father?’ 

‘Both my parents died when I was just a little baby. I had,’ Anne paused, shivering involuntarily. Gilbert pulled her hand up to his lips and kissed her knuckles lightly. She gave him a quick, reassuring smile, meant to signify “it’s all right”, and went on, looking into Minnie May’s inquiring blue eyes, ‘I had matrons at the orphanage. And sometimes I also had families who let me stay with them in return for work.’

‘Work? You had to work when you were my age?’ repeated Minnie May, horrified.

‘You see?’ Anne laughed with a well-studied lightness, but Gilbert could and did notice a slightly strained note in her voice. ‘That’s why I feel authorised to tell you with a hundred per cent certainty that you’re a very lucky girl to have parents and a home like your own. There truly are many, many children who would do anything in the world to switch places with you, Minnie May.’

‘Hmm,’ murmured Minnie May with evident discomfiture. She stood up, dusted off her skirt, and skipped away towards a cluster of flowers that grew near the wall of the house.

As soon as the girl had her back turned on them, Anne sat up and kissed Gilbert lingeringly on the mouth. ‘I had to make sure it’s still worth it,’ she hummed against his lips. ‘Being friends with an annoying boy, I mean.’

‘Well?’ Gilbert smiled teasingly, quirking an eyebrow at her.

‘I’m not quite convinced.’

He bent down and kissed her so hard she had to clutch at his arms for support.

‘Well?’ he repeated, his eyes smouldering.

Anne, though breathless, pretended to hesitate, and he was about to kiss her again when Minnie May skipped back to them and scattered a handful of bright yellow flowers into Anne’s lap. 

‘Can I go look for some different-coloured ones, Anne? Then we can make flower crowns.’

‘Yes, but don’t go beyond the gate, okay?’

‘Mother says it’s unladylike slang to say “okay”,’ demurred Minnie May.

‘Marilla says the same,’ laughed Anne. ‘Well then, don’t go outside the gate, all right?’

‘All right.’

Gilbert sat watching the exchange with an amused smile which, however, gradually died from his lips, and when Anne turned back towards him he was gazing at her with a troubled frown.

‘What’s wrong?’ she asked, snuggling up closer to him and pressing her lips to the underside of his jaw. ‘Don’t tell me you’re worried about Marilla. It’s not the first time she’s going to give me a talking to, and definitely not the last.’

‘No, it’s not that – I mean, it’s that too, but,’ he reached up and stroked her cheek. ‘It’s just that hearing you mention your past makes me feel so— so useless, because I can’t do anything to repair the pain you’ve been through.’

‘Don’t worry about that, Gil,’ said Anne in a dull voice, turning her face to the side so that he couldn’t see her expression. ‘It’s in the past. It doesn’t concern you.’

At that, Gilbert gently tilted Anne’s chin up, making her look him in the eyes. His gaze was searching and earnest. 

‘Anne, everything that concerns you concerns me, whether it’s happened this week or ten years ago. Everything. And especially something that,’ he paused, a little afraid to broach the subject, but determined to try to get Anne to be more open with him. ‘Especially something that continues to affect you.’

Anne smiled wanly, reaching up and taking the hand that cupped her chin. Looking down at the way her slender fingers fit between his bony, calloused ones, she said,

‘It affects me much less than it used to when I first came to Avonlea – truly, Gil, way much less. It’s gotten better with every year I’ve spent here. And during the past few weeks I almost forgot all about it, being so busy with much pleasanter things,’ she quipped somewhat lamely, looking back up into his troubled eyes.

He clenched his jaw at that. ‘Anne, please don’t joke and try to fob me off. Not about something so serious. I just – I just want you to know you can always talk to me about this. About anything. I can’t promise to help – however much I might want to – but I can promise to be there for you. Always.’

Anne propped her chin on her free hand. For a few moments, they were both silent, Anne’s gaze fixed on their interlocked fingers and Gilbert’s on the top of Anne’s head. Finally, she spoke, looking up at him with eyes that were very bright,

‘Do you remember when we first met? In the forest, when you came upon me and Billy Andrews.’

Gilbert frowned. ‘I kind of chased him away, didn’t I?’

‘You did,’ Anne brought their intertwined hands up and lay her cheek against his palm. ‘And then I scuttled away without thanking you, and you thought me crazy.’

‘Not “crazy”,’ Gilbert, in spite of the anxiety gnawing at his stomach, smiled with a dash of amusement, and leant down to kiss the tip of Anne’s nose. ‘I think I was just confused by the fact that any girl could help falling victim to my infallible charms. Also, you really did look so different from all the other girls I had even known.’

‘Different?’ Anne let out an ironical snigger. ‘As in, ugly and gaunt?’

‘As in, unique and remarkable.’

‘And a bit underfed.’

‘Well, I did offer you an apple, didn’t I?’ 

They were both smiling now, and Gilbert was glad to see that the expression of Anne’s eyes was becoming less inapproachable. 

She bit her lip and continued, ‘All right, so we are agreed that I didn’t thank you for helping me get away from Billy. And it wasn’t because I was an ill-bred orphan—‘

Gilbert frowned irritably and opened his mouth to speak, but Anne shushed him with a finger to his lips, smiling a little.

‘Yes, I know you never thought that, Gil.’ She sighed. ‘Well then, it was because whenever I felt deeply hurt, or scared, or – or threatened – I just – my head just went all empty and terrible. My brain just felt frozen, like something in it had hitched and stopped working. All I could think of was getting away from there and into a place where there’d be other people and light and safety.’

Gilbert’s eyes scanned her face. ‘Does this still happen?’

‘Well, I don’t feel threatened often nowadays,’ Anne replied with an attempt at light-heartedness, scooting over to his side and laying her head on his shoulder. ‘It’s really gotten much better now, Gil. I promise. Those first months after I’d come here, it would all come back in flashes – the way,’ she shuddered involuntarily, and Gilbert put his arm around her waist and held her closer to him. ‘The way other kids at the orphanage would – well, I guess torture me is the right way of putting it really. Or the way the people with whom I’d lived behaved towards each other. It was horrible, Gil. You – you can’t even imagine the cruelty and wretchedness of some of those people.’ 

They stayed silent for a moment, Gilbert’s arms wrapped tightly around Anne. Then, skimming his cheek with the tips of her fingers, she continued falteringly, ‘I used to think I wouldn’t ever want to get married. Because I thought all men were like that – brutal and... and worse. They hated their wives, Gil. Hated and despised them. Imagine a life like that. It must be hell.’

‘Anne, you know I could never, ever become like that, right?’ Gilbert said with intensity, sitting up straight and cupping Anne’s face in his hands. ‘Never. I swear to you. I’d sooner cut my hands off than hurt you in any way.’ His earnest eyes searched her face anxiously. 

Anne smiled a small but genuine smile. ‘Of course not, Gil. Really, when I came here to Avonlea and saw all these families – Marilla and Matthew, and the Barrys, and the Lyndes, and the Gillises – everyone – it was a whole different way of living from what I’d seen before. And I know your father was a good man, too, though I’d only seen him once. He was kind – automatically. Not judgemental and hostile like other people. Kind, quite simply. And you’re the same as him, Gil.’

‘All the same, I wish you hadn’t had to go through all this.’ Gilbert’s voice was strained, his jaw clenched. ‘I wish you hadn’t had to witness such things. I wish—‘

‘Don’t dwell on this any more, Gil,’ Anne put in pleadingly. ‘I swear to you that by just being with me you’re doing more towards helping me learn to deal with those memories than anyone else. And I hope you won’t think worse of me because – because of all this.’ She looked up at him, her face drawn into a frown of apprehension.

Gilbert shook his head in a mixture of incredulity and impatience. ‘Think worse of you? You’re a living, breathing miracle, Anne, and I realise this more clearly every day. You’re quite literally the light of my life. I know all this sounds terribly cliché, but it’s true. It must have cost you so much strength to remain like this through it all. My sweet, brave, exceptional Anne.’ 

These last words were uttered in a reverent whisper, and as he said them he bent down to kiss her tenderly on the lips.

‘What are you doing?’ demanded Minnie May in a deeply disapproving voice. Anne and Gilbert broke apart and looked up to see the little girl standing above them with her arms full of flowers.

‘Scheming,’ replied Anne with mock solemnity, while Gilbert moved a little away and flung himself back onto the ground. ‘I’m trying to convince Gilbert to run away with me so that we can get married immediately.’ 

‘That’s stupid,’ replied Minnie May, throwing her flowers down onto the blanket and seating herself beside Anne. ‘Would you really like to do that?’

‘Right now, very much,’ laughed Anne, sending Gilbert an arch look over her shoulder. ‘What do you say, Mr. Blythe?’

‘That it’s a terrible idea. Marilla would chase us all the way down and have me put behind bars,’ Gilbert smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

‘And you don’t believe becoming my husband might be worth paying that price?’ Anne drawled teasingly, bending down towards him and biting her lip. 

Gilbert’s eyes flickered to her mouth, his gaze darkening.

‘I – I think perhaps it might,’ he replied a bit hoarsely, swallowing hard.

‘You are both weird,’ announced Minnie May, frowning. ‘I am never going to get married. I don’t understand why any girl should want to. Boys are so terrible.’

‘The trick is to find one who’s a little less terrible than all the rest,’ said Anne laughingly. Straightening up, she picked a few flowers and began to weave them into a chain. ‘And then to hold onto him, and love him, and love him, and never let him go. That’s what I plan to do.’

‘An excellent plan, miss Shirley,’ chuckled Gilbert, stretching out his hand and running his fingers down Anne’s spine. ‘I’m going to hold you to it.’

Minnie May furrowed her eyebrows in thought. ‘Mother says it’s important to find someone who’s eli-eli—‘

‘Eligible?’ supplied Anne, swapping Gilbert’s hand away and falling back to her work at the flower-chain.

‘Yes!’ Minnie May nodded eagerly. ‘What does that mean, Anne? Is Gilbert eligible?’

‘Oh, extremely.’ Anne turned towards the subject of this question and looked him up and down with a spuriously innocent smile. 

‘How do you know?’ Minnie May propped her chin on her hands and gazed at Gilbert critically.

‘Stop staring at me, both of you!’ laughed Gilbert uncomfortably, sitting up. ‘You’re making me nervous. And just so you know, I’m not in the least eligible, Minnie May. I’m poor and likely to remain so.’

‘Eligible means rich then?’ 

‘No,’ said Anne decisively. ‘It means good, and kind, and understating, and likely to make a loving, caring husband and parent. Those are the only marks of eligibility which truly count, Minnie May. And Gilbert has them all,’ she added, her eyes locked with his. He shook his head, smiling dismissively.

‘Enough of this, or it’ll go to my head and make me so insufferably stuck up you’ll jilt me for Royal Gardner yet,’ he said, getting up and pulling Anne to her feet as well. He gazed into her eyes adoringly and placed a quick kiss on the tip of her nose. 

‘Minnie May, run along and bring a few more of those red flowers, will you? They make a nice contrast to the yellow ones, and we haven’t enough of them to suffice for two chains,’ said Anne, her eyes never leaving Gilbert’s and her fingers weaving themselves tightly round his.

‘You’re the same as Diana, Anne!’ complained Minnie May, shuffling unwillingly away. ‘She’s always making up excuses to send me out of the room when she’s with Jerry as well.’

As soon as the girl had disappeared behind the corner of the house, Anne reached up and kissed Gilbert deeply on the mouth, burying her fingers in his hair. He responded eagerly, pulling her flush against himself, his hands pressed firmly to the small of her back. Finally, he broke off, his lips straying up to the line of her hair.

‘Don’t go yet,’ Anne whispered, pressing her lips to his throat. ‘In case it’s Marilla’s anger that’s scaring you away, you’ve nothing to be afraid of. Her cherished illusion is that Gilbert Blythe is capable of no wrong, and that Anne Shirley is a minx who’s doing her best to tempt the poor innocent boy into the ways of evil.’

‘It’s not an illusion,’ replied Gilbert huskily, pulling Anne’s face up again for a brief, sweet kiss on the lips. ‘It’s the truth. You are a minx. Your goal in life is to drive me distracted. Admit it.’

Anne smiled against his lips. ‘My goal is to make sure you don’t forget about me from one end of the day to another.’

‘No danger of that,’ he kissed her once more, swiftly but intensely. ‘But,’ he added, seeing from the tail of his eye that Minnie May was making her way towards them again, ‘I really have to go now. Mary will be furious if I’m late for supper again.’

Anne sighed, moving away, but still unwilling to let go of Gilbert’s hand. ‘Yes, I think I had better take Minnie May in and get her something to eat as well.’

‘See you tomorrow, then?’ he asked, giving her fingers a squeeze.

‘Yes. That is, provided Marilla doesn’t ground me,’ she added musingly.

Gilbert stared. ‘Do you think she really might?’

‘You should see your face,’ giggled Anne mischievously. ‘Would you miss me very much if she did?’

‘What do you think?’ he tugged at her hand and pulled her in for a last quick kiss.

‘Well then, if she does, we can always resort to the elopement plan.’

‘Elope-what plan?’ Minnie May was back at their side.

‘Nothing,’ said Gilbert hurriedly, pulling away from Anne with a reluctant smile. ‘Anne is just joking. Again.’

‘I wasn’t joking,’ Anne called out laughingly after Gilbert as he made his way towards the rear gate. ‘Bring a rope tomorrow, in case I need to climb out of the window. It’ll be most romantical.’ 

‘You can climb ropes?’ asked Minnie May in an awed voice, bringing Anne’s attention back to herself. ‘Will you teach me?’

‘Only if, when you get engaged, I happen to approve of your fiancé,’ she replied with a pretence at seriousness. ‘I’m not going to risk your eloping with an ineligible candidate. But,’ she added hastily, suddenly struck by the thought that it would not do to have Minnie May go around repeating to Marilla and Mrs Barry the nonsense she had been talking, ‘you need to keep this conversation a secret until then, okay?’

‘Okay,’ replied Minnie May, forgetting, in her eagerness to acquire such an enviable skill, that she was not supposed to talk unladylike slang.


	2. i would burn all my dreams away // just to stand in the broken shadows of your reckless love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this chapter got out of all control
> 
> apologies 
> 
> (I'm editing with my eyes barely open, so kindly excuse any typos/mistakes)

‘This is definitely your summer, kids.’ said Sebastian Lacroix, bursting into the room where his wife, Anne and Gilbert sat around the festive Sunday table. ‘You two have managed to become the talk of the town again!’

Anne had once more been invited to a Sunday luncheon at the Blythe-Lacroix homestead – this time no longer under false pretences, which resulted in both her and Gilbert feeling much more cheerful and at their ease as they sat down to partake of the repast prepared by Mary’s able hands. 

Bash had come in late, having been waylaid by Mrs Lynde after church and made to go help her chase a young calf which had broken free from its pen, and the threat of whose imminent escape induced the devout Rachel to obtain the parson’s permission for breaking her own and her neighbour’s Sabbath and setting to work to capture the runaway.

And now, having taken his seat at the table, Sebastian fixed Anne and Gilbert with an ironical smile, uttering those somewhat enigmatical words.

‘What are you talking about, Bash?’ asked Gilbert confusedly, his left hand straying almost of its own accord to take Anne’s right one. As he felt the touch of her soft, cool skin he realised again how amazing the fact that reaching out and intertwining his fingers with hers was something he could – with certain unavoidable qualifications – do whenever he wanted to. He promptly lost interest in whatever Bash was going to say, and focused on staring at Anne adoringly instead. 

‘Is there something wrong with my face, Gil?’ she asked with mock exasperation, turning towards him and scrunching up her nose.

‘Blythe, for God’s sake, give the girl a break!’ boomed Sebastian, making Gilbert tear his gaze reluctantly from Anne’s eyes.

‘You are hopeless, Blythe,’ Sebastian chuckled, shaking his head. ‘You’ve always used to act like a mook around your Anne-with-an-e here, but now your condition seems to be getting worse by the day. Last time you brought her here you wouldn’t so much as look in her direction, and now you are unable to look anywhere else. Anne-with-an-e, if it wasn’t for the fact that I don’t relish the prospect of Blythe going completely out of his mind, I would really advise you to reconsider your choice of future husband,’ he added with a wink in the girl’s direction.

‘Too late,’ replied Anne laughingly, laying her cheek against Gilbert’s arm. ‘I wouldn’t like to be forced to go back on my word.’ 

Mary beamed at the young couple. ‘By the way, congratulations, both of you. I stand by what I said before. You are made for each other.’

‘Confirmed, we are,’ said Gilbert, his eyes crinkling up as he looked down at the way his hand, resting in Anne’s lap, was enfolded in both her small palms. ‘Thanks, Mary.'

Here Bash, who had been keeping silent during this exchange, let out a guffaw. ‘It's good to know you're losing no more time, Blythe. Can’t really say I blame you. I must admit, though, that I didn't expect you to let yourself be so easily swayed by the baser instincts.’ 

The other three stared at him. Eventually, Gilbert cleared his throat and repeated his forgotten question from ten minutes before,

‘What are you talking about, Bash?’

‘About the fact that the whole of this place has become privy to the secret that you, Blythe, are planning to lose no time making Anne-with-an-e here your lawful wife,’ replied Sebastian with a broad grin. ‘And, if you ask me, I wholeheartedly approve. I was never a champion of long engagements, was I, Mary?’

Gilbert felt Anne’s hold on his hand loosen. She stared at Bash with furrowed eyebrows. 

‘Whatever do you mean, Bash?’ she asked in a somewhat strained voice. ‘What does he mean, Gil, about your losing no time?’

‘I—‘ Gilbert stuttered. ‘I have no idea, Anne. Someone has been making things up—‘

‘Look at those two innocents, Mary,’ Sebastian carried on banteringly, completely oblivious to Anne’s discomfiture and Gilbert’s confusion. ‘Pretending they have no idea what I’m driving at, while only yesterday they made plans to go someplace where there’d be no Miss Cuthbert around to interrupt the ceremony.’

At those words, Anne’s face immediately lost its look of suspicious bewilderment. ‘I’ll kill Minnie May,’ she said, letting out an embarrassed giggle. ‘Though I suppose it’s my own fault really for talking such nonsense with a kid like her around.’

‘I told you not to,’ Gilbert smirked, regaining his hold on her hand. Anne rolled her eyes, and he lifted her palm to his lips for a quick kiss.

‘Will someone kindly explain to me what this weird conversation is about?’ Mary’s level, low voice rang out demandingly.

‘I – we – were taking care of little Minnie May Barry yesterday,’ said Anne, turning towards the older woman. ‘And we joked about how if Marilla grounds me I’ll let myself down on a rope and we’ll elope and get married in secret. And from what Bash says it appears that now this joke has become news in general circulation around Avonlea.’

‘You can bet it has,’ replied Bash. ‘I’m actually beginning to think that the exquisite Mrs Lynde let that calf out herself just to be able to get me alone and pump me. So you’re saying it’s not actually happening?’ he asked, a note of genuine disappointment in his voice.

‘No, it isn’t. And you might have guessed as much, and put Mrs Lynde and her friends straight about the matter,’ said Gilbert somewhat harshly. What did Bash have to sound disappointed about anyway? It wasn't as though he was the one whose professional aspirations prevented him from securing the girl of his dreams!

‘Don’t kill the messenger, Blythe,’ ginned Sebastian, undaunted. 

‘That’s right, Gil, it’s not Bash who started this stupid gossip,’ put in Anne. ‘Anyway, what does it matter? No one’s going to believe it, except for inquisitive old ladies who have nothing better to do than imagine things. Everyone with a grain of common sense will know that we would have to be crazy to do a thing like that.’

‘Apparently, he believed it,’ snapped Gilbert, glaring accusingly at Sebastian. ‘And how do you think we would manage afterwards, Bash? With no money and no proper education to allow me to earn any?’ 

‘It’s just gossip,’ Anne repeated, a little bit taken aback at Gilbert’s vehemence. His grasp on her fingers had become so tight it hurt. She freed her hand with one decisive gesture and folded her arms across her chest. Did he really mind so much about gossip founded on a thoughtless joke told in the presence of a nine-year-old girl?

‘You know what people are,’ chimed in Mary in a soothing tone. ‘They will clutch at any little scrap of nonsense and blow it up out of all proportion.’

‘It just seems to me that Bash should know better than to believe it and go spreading it around,’ huffed Gilbert. He realised he was getting worked up over nothing at all, but he just couldn’t help it. The fact that Anne and Mary were treating him as though he were a fractious child riled him up even more. And it was all very well for Bash to laugh: he hadn’t been put to the ordeal of having to wait over three years before he could make the woman he loved his wife.

Three years was a long time. Anne might get tired of waiting; she might meet someone she liked better; she might go back to thinking she never wanted to marry; she was Anne – she might do literally anything. And Gilbert shrunk from even imagining how much it would hurt to lose her now that he had finally got to experience the joy of being with her. 

Throughout the rest of the meal he sat in silence, speaking in monosyllables only when spoken to.

When the visit eventually came to an end, it was to everyone’s secret relief. Presently, Anne and Gilbert found themselves on their way towards Green Gables under an overcast, pearl-gray September sky.

With every step, Anne found the silence in which they walked more oppressive. Finally, unable to stand it any more, she put her hand on Gilbert’s arm to make him stop. 

‘You don’t have to walk me if you don’t want to,’ she said, looking at his collar and trying hard to keep her voice level. ‘Go back home. I’ll see you.’

Before she had taken two steps, Gilbert was by her side again, blocking her way. His eyes, panicked, scanned her face. ‘What? Why would you say that, Anne? What’s happened?’ he asked confusedly.

Anne stared at him in disbelief. ‘What’s happened?’ she repeated sneeringly. ‘You tell me what’s happened! It’s not like you’ve given me to understand that you’re mortally offended with me for giving the old hens of Avonlea reason to sully your impeccable name!’

‘What?’ he repeated, and Anne couldn’t deny that the incomprehension in his voice sounded genuine. That, however, only served to heighten her annoyance. 

‘Oh, just leave me alone,’ she sighed exasperatedly, turning away once more.

Gilbert, whose uncommunicativeness had been caused exclusively by his immersion in bleak thoughts about how Anne was certain to tire of him before the end of their engagement, felt a wave of desperation surge within him at those words: they seemed to confirm all his most depressing premonitions. Unthinkingly, he reached out and grabbed her by the wrist, swinging her around to face him.

‘Gilbert, I don’t have the energy to deal with—‘ Anne began, but he cut her off with a kiss in which was contained the whole of his desire to make her understand how impossible it would be for him to let her part from him in anger and misunderstanding.

At first, the suddenness of Gilbert’s kiss rendered Anne completely frozen with surprise. Then, however, the smell of his skin filled her nostrils, and she responded the only way she knew how: she kissed him back, melting into the wonderful sensation of her body being crushed into his and his hot, urgent lips working frantically against hers. Before she could stop herself, she nibbled delicately at his lower lip. Gilbert gave a low moan, and Anne felt the tip of his tongue touch hers. Her knees buckled, and she gasped in a mixture of surprise and pleasure. 

When they finally broke apart, Anne was so breathless and dizzy that all she could do was shut her eyes and press her face to his shoulder, trying to regain some kind of mental and physical equilibrium. 

‘I love you so much, Anne,’ Gilbert breathed into her hair. ‘I don’t want to lose you.’

She looked up at him, frowning in confusion. His eyes were still dazed from the kiss, and he looked rather helpless. ‘What on earth do you mean? Does it look to you like I’m going anywhere?’ Anne asked with a raspy giggle, and Gilbert smiled crookedly back, tightening his hold on her waist.

‘Not now – but you might want to in the future,’ he replied falteringly. 

Anne shook her head in incomprehension. ‘Gil, this is complete nonsense. When did I ever give you the slightest reason to believe I could possibly want to leave you?’ She could not keep a note of resentment from her voice.

Gilbert brought his hands up and cupped her face, stroking her cheeks with his thumbs. ‘It’s not that, Anne,’ he said quietly. ‘It’s just that sometimes – all the time, really – it’s so hard for me to believe that we’re actually together. And the fact that we have to wait so long before we can marry—I just keep picturing all the things that could intervene and prevent it from happening. And I don’t think life would be worth living for me then.’

‘You can’t talk like this, Gil,’ Anne said in a faint attempt to assuage the frightening vulnerability she saw in his eyes. She reached up and covered his hands with hers. ‘First of all, because nothing could ever induce me to leave you. And also because there are so many things you’ve got live for besides—‘

Gilbert cut her off with a bitter, dismissive half-laugh. ‘Anne, there’s nothing but you – nothing that matters. You are everything to me – everything.’ 

There was such earnestness in his eyes and sincerity in his voice that Anne could think of no other response than to press herself closer to him and kiss him on the mouth again, lingeringly and sweetly.

‘I thought you were angry with me because of the gossip,’ she said with an embarrassed giggle, breaking off. ‘You’ve been so quiet and sulky all through lunch.’

Gilbert rolled his eyes in mock exasperation, and then immediately belied the gesture by kissing her swiftly once more. ‘It just makes me so angry, the fact that we have to wait so long. And Bash kept rubbing it in.’

‘It’s three years, Gil, not thirteen,’ said Anne reasonably, tracing a line along his furrowed brows with her fingers. ‘It’s not so terribly long at all.’

‘In this case, Anne, three months would seem a long wait to me, and three years are an eternity. I even got so far today as to wonder whether it wouldn’t be better if I just dropped out of medical school and—‘

‘What? No!’ Anne exclaimed, stepping away from him. ‘Don’t even talk like this, Gil. Becoming a doctor is your biggest dream. You would regret it until the end of your life if you just gave up on it now.’

‘You are my biggest dream, Anne,’ Gilbert said, hooking his fingers through hers and pulling her back against him. 

‘Well, congratulations then,’ she laughed, proceeding to plant small kisses along the line of his jaw. ‘Because, as you can see, I’m already here to stay. Therefore, you are free to put all your energies into realising you second biggest dream.’ Her lips hovered above his Adam’s apple. ‘Promise you won’t ever think about leaving medical school again.’

‘Anne—’

She nuzzled lower, undoing the two topmost buttons of his shirt and pressing her lips to his collarbone. ‘Promise right now,’ she whispered, and the feeling of her breath on his skin made him tremble. With shaking hands, he brought her face back up, and there was something so dark and thirsty in the expression of his eyes that Anne felt weak, and for a moment doubted the advisedness of what she had just done. Somehow, she felt certain that the memory of Gilbert looking at her like this would keep her awake for the next few nights.

‘All right, I promise,’ he said, his voice her favourite shade of husky. ‘But I think I should let you know that this is not how we are supposed to solve arguments. ’

‘This wasn't an argument, it was just you talking nonsense,’ Anne smiled, nudging his nose with hers. ‘And I’ve managed to bring you back to your senses, didn’t I?’

The look he gave her at that was positively scorching. She felt her cheeks go red, but held his gaze nonetheless. 

After a forever of electrified silence, Gilbert gave her a crooked smile and moved away to the side. Without exchanging another word, they proceeded on their way towards Green Gables.

Before they entered the gate, Anne stopped and looked up into Gilbert’s face with a mischievous smile.

‘In case you ever foolishly forget why you’re doing any of this during the next three years, I'm always ready to remind you,’ she drawled teasingly. ‘I seem to have accidentally struck on a really good method of convincing you I’m always right.’

Gilbert smirked. ‘You shouldn’t overdo it, if you know what’s good for you.'

‘Oh, I’m not afraid,’ Anne quipped lightly, turning towards the gate. Her heart was beating so violently she was sure he must hear it.

As she struggled with the latch, Gilbert’s arm slid around her waist from behind. ‘A friendly advice, miss Shirley,’ he whispered, and the feeling of his breath on her neck made her shudder. 'Stop teasing.'

‘Ah! It’s true, then! I knew it!’ 

Rachel Lynde was bearing down upon them with a triumphant smile on her face.


	3. she's sweet like candy in my veins / I'm dying for another taste

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> just when y'all lost hope, I'm updating! :D (I'm still rather unwell, so apologies for any mistakes)
> 
> my only comment on this chapter is that I agree with Mrs. Lynde - if these kids want to make it in chastity through a 3-year-long engagement, they need to get a hold on themselves :D

Anne and Gilbert stood frozen immobile, his arm still around her waist.

‘Whatever do you mean, Mrs. Lynde?’ asked Anne confusedly, trying to force her brain to focus on the present moment rather than the way Gilbert’s whisper had sent sparks of electricity all down her spine.

‘This—‘ Mrs. Lynde exclaimed, a little out of breath with indignation, ‘this indecent display of affection! In a public place too, for the whole world to see!’

‘This is hardly a public place, Mrs. Lynde,’ said Anne reasonably and even laughingly, disentangling herself from Gilbert’s embrace and hooking her fingers through his instead. ‘It’s practically within the bounds of my own front yard.’

Mrs. Lynde looked even more scandalised. ‘Anne, upon my word! Don’t go picking holes in what your elders say to you! Indecency is indecency, it doesn’t in the least matter whether you’re here or in the middle of the town hall!’

‘But we weren’t doing anything indecent!’ expostulated Anne, losing her poise a little. Not at the moment anyhow, she thought, wondering what would happen if Mrs. Lynde were to ever come upon her and Gilbert kissing the way they had done earlier on.

‘Do stop arguing, child!’ With a decisive gesture, Mrs. Lynde lifted the latch and entered the Green Gables front yard. ‘I have refrained from speaking to Marilla until now, but, in common human decency, I can do so longer. Follow me, young people.’

Anne made a wry face at Gilbert, tugging him forward in Mrs. Lynde’s wake. Gilbert, however, appeared more flustered and uncomfortable than annoyed. Very quickly, lifting herself up on tiptoe, Anne pressed a kiss to his cheek.

‘Don’t mind anything she says. Marilla will never believe it,’ she whispered, and he gave her a half-hearted smile.

Mrs. Lynde looked sharply over her shoulder. ‘Kindly stop giggling behind my back, Anne. I assure you you’ll find nothing amusing in this situation once I’ve presented it to Marilla in the right light.’

Anne opened her mouth to retort, but at the same moment felt Gilbert squeeze her hand. When she looked over at him, he shook his head pleadingly. Anne rolled her eyes, but stayed silent.

Without bothering to knock, Mrs. Lynde marched right into the house.

Marilla was sitting by the kitchen window, reading from a small black book. Upon their filing in, she put it down and looked at them quizzically over the rim of her spectacles.

‘Gracious me, what is the meaning of this procession?’ she asked in a mock-solemn voice.

‘You’d be well advised, Marilla Cuthbert, not to shut yourself at home like this, but come out instead and profit by what your neighbours might tell you about the goings on of this young lady here,’ replied Mrs. Lynde lugubriously, waving an accusing hand in Anne’s direction.

Marilla’s eyes flitted to Anne, who was bursting with the eagerness to speak up in her own and Gilbert’s defence, and was only prevented from doing so by the slight, cautionary pressure which the latter still applied to her fingers as they were intertwined with his own.

‘Well, perhaps since Anne is here, she might as well tell me herself,’ said Marilla calmly.

‘No, I might _not_ , Marilla!’ Anne flared up instantaneously. ‘Because there’s nothing to tell!’

‘Nothing to tell, indeed!’ put in Mrs. Lynde with a mournful laugh. ‘I suppose you consider the fact that you two mean to get married on the sly ‘nothing’?’

Anne felt very much like throwing a tantrum. This was really getting more and more ridiculous. Heaving a heavy sigh, she said, slowly and emphatically,

‘Marilla, this is silly gossip inspired by a thoughtless joke I told yesterday in the presence of Minnie May Barry.’

‘Of course it’s a joke,’ replied Marilla sharply, getting up. ‘I would have credited you with more common sense than that, Rachel Lynde. Tell me, how long exactly have you known Gilbert?’

Finding himself the object of the two elderly ladies' scrutiny, Gilbert felt called upon to contribute to the debate.

‘I believe Mrs. Lynde was actually the first neighbour to come visit me and my father when we came to live here,’ he replied with a nervous half-laugh. ‘That would work out at about . . . twelve years, I believe?’

‘And what opinion,’ continued Marilla imperturbably, turning back towards Mrs. Lynde, ‘of his character have you formed during these twelve years, Rachel? Because I have never known anyone speak of the boy as anything other than responsible and mature beyond his years. Does that make him sound to you like the kind of person likely to attempt something so idiotic and melodramatic as an elopement?’

Mrs. Lynde drew herself up indignantly. ‘You’re missing the point completely, my dear Marilla. It’s not about the boy. It’s the girl who’s at the heart of it all. She, and the foolish way in which you let her run around unsupervised!’

‘Excuse me!’ Anne could contain herself no longer. ‘Mrs. Lynde, excuse my vocabulary, but it’s absurd for you to speak about me and Gilbert as though we were some unruly schoolchildren in need of a governess! We are both adult and, may I remind you, engaged to be married!’

‘That is the problem, child!’ shot back Mrs. Lynde. ‘Marilla, being unmarried, may not know how problematic and ill-advised long engagements usually turn out to be. Or, to speak more bluntly, that they very often end up not being long at all, and that the resulting weddings tend to be rather more hurried and private than is usually the case!’

‘Rachel!’

‘Mrs Lynde!’

Marilla and Gilbert, the latter putting his arm around the by now gaping Anne’s waist and pulling her close to his side, spoke up simultaneously. Since all eyes turned towards him, it was Gilbert who continued.

‘Mrs. Lynde,’ he said in a level, stern voice. ‘I’m sure you realise what great injustice you’re doing both Anne and myself in speaking like this. Miss Cuthbert,’ he turned towards Marilla, his tone getting more earnest. ‘I hope I’ve never given you the slightest reason to doubt that Anne is perfectly safe in my company, whatever the circumstances.’

‘Of course you haven’t!’ Somehow, Marilla didn’t sound quite as terse as before. ‘It shall indeed be a sad day when I begin to doubt the intentions of John Blythe’s son!’

‘Thank you, Miss Cuthbert,’ said Gilbert simply.

‘I think neither one of us has anything more to say on this subject, Marilla,’ put in Anne, without making the slightest effort at disguising the exasperation she felt. ‘Since we have established that my being alone with Gilbert does _not_ pose a threat to my virtue, I think we will retire upstairs and leave you to settle the rest between yourselves.’

And, with an impatient gesture, she tugged at Gilbert’s hand and led him towards the stairs.

‘Unbelievable! Here I am, come on an errand of neighbourly kindness not many would trouble themselves to undertake, and _this_ is how I am received—‘

Mrs. Lynde’s outraged expostulations and Marilla’s terse rejoinders died out as Anne, having pushed Gilbert in, shut the door of her bedroom behind herself.

‘Anne, I know you want to prove your point, but it really is hardly—‘ Gilbert hesitated, frowning a little, ‘regular for me to be alone with you in your bedroom.’

Anne went over to the bed and threw herself down with an angry groan. ‘Indecent! Oh, I’ll show her indecent if she wants to!’

Gilbert, who still hovered in the immediate vicinity of the door, couldn’t help smirking at this remark. ‘Are you going to kiss me in the middle of the town hall after all?’

‘Ugh!’ Anne sat up, wincing. ‘Gilbert, doesn’t it just make you so mad sometimes that one can’t even joke in a small town like this without everyone second-guessing every single word? How I wish—‘ she trailed off, staring in front of herself musingly.

‘What makes m e mad,’ replied Gilbert, forgetting, in his earnestness, that he was supposed to stay away from Anne and near the means of exit, and coming to sit next to her on the bed, ‘is that anyone should have a bad enough opinion of you, Anne, to assume such things about you.’

‘What things?’ Anne asked in genuine confusion, having been lost in though and only half-attending to what Gilbert was saying.

Under the limpid, wide-eyed gaze she fixed him with, Gilbert’s face went slightly red. ‘The – the kind of things Mrs. Lynde has been hinting at,’ he replied rather falteringly.

Anne scrunched up her nose. ‘The kind— Oh!’ she snickered, narrowing her eyes and sidling a little closer to him, ‘You mean, about our engagement being shorter than originally planned, and suchlike?’ She titled her head to the side, smiling mischievously, ‘But you have been talking about wanting to shorten it yourself only an hour ago, Gil,’ she drawled teasingly.

Gilbert gulped. ‘Yes, Anne, I’d very much like to make the wait shorter,’ he replied, unconsciously running the tip of his tongue along his lips to wet them. Anne’s gaze flitted down to watch the action, and then back up to his eyes. ‘But I would never forgive myself if it was to be because—‘ he swallowed once again. ‘Because I couldn’t control myself around you the way I ought to—‘

‘Oh Gil,’ Anne breathed, her palms sliding underneath his unbuttoned vest and up his torso. He could feel the warmth of her skin through the fabric of his shirt. ‘You always _can_ control yourself. You’re always so cool and collected. So much so I get annoyed with you sometimes.’

Combing her fingers through the curls at the back of his head, she raised her face up to his and brushed his lips, ever so lightly, with her own. This feather-like touch made Gilbert remember the way they had kissed before, and he realised how much his whole body ached to touch and taste Anne again the way he’d done then.

With a movement so swift that Anne, for all her teasing, gasped in surprise, he pushed her back onto the bed and pressed his lips to hers, his hands pinning her arms down.

Letting out a sigh of satisfaction, Anne opened her mouth to him, and as he revelled in the exquisite sensation of feeling her tongue against his again Gilbert felt her shift beneath him until suddenly her knees were bent up on both sides of him and her arms were wound around his neck, pulling him closer until her could feel her body writhing impatiently beneath him.

‘Gil,’ she breathed against his lips. ‘Gil, I love you so much.’

His response was to kiss her even more deeply, until they were both panting for breath and yet unwilling to stop. Anne shifted her hips restlessly, making her already bundled-up skirts slide even higher up. Gilbert gave a groan that was half pleasure, half impatience, and one of his hands strayed down until his fingers touched the lace trimmings at the edge of her drawers.

‘Anne,’ he rasped, not knowing whether he was asking her permission or trying to get her to tell him to stop.

Anne opened her eyes and stared into his face with such a shadowy, lustful gaze that Gilbert’s thoughts went completely wild, and, very slowly, he moved his hand a little higher over the silky fabric.

A knock at the door, and a sharp, ‘Anne, are you there?’

In two swift movements, Gilbert found himself at the window with his back to the room.

‘Anne?’ Marilla called out again.

Having smoothed down her hair and skirts, Anne sprung up and opened the door.

‘Yes, I’m sorry, Marilla, we were both lost in thought,’ she said, miraculously managing to keep her voice steady.

Marilla gave her a sceptical look. ‘I hope you were resolving not to provide any more fodder for unnecessary gossip,’ she said coldly. ‘This really isn’t a matter of me trusting you or otherwise. I don’t want you two to become the talk of the town for the wrong reasons, however unfounded.’

‘Of course, Marilla,’ said Anne with genuine contrition. ‘I hate myself for having caused all this fuss. Even Gilbert’s given me a talking to, haven’t you, Gil?’

‘Yes,’ said Gilbert, half-turning towards them, his face drawn. ‘And I really meant what I said earlier, Miss Cuthbert.’

Marilla gave him a warm smile. ‘I know you did. Very well then, come on downstairs, both of you, I’ve baked some delicious apple pie, and Rachel stormed off home without consenting to take a bite.’

‘I’m sorry you've quarrelled because of me,’ said Anne, coming out into the corridor.

‘She’ll get over it,’ replied Marilla, heading towards the stairs. ‘She needs me. No one else puts up with her self-importance the way I do.’

‘Come on, Gil,’ Anne said, holding the door open.

Gilbert finally turned from the window, looking at her with an expression that she was unable to interpret.

‘Are you angry with me, Gil?’ she asked quietly as he moved past her into the corridor.

‘Angry with you? I’m angry with myself,’ he said with a sigh, shaking his head. ‘Anne, you’re going to be the death of me.’

Giving him a quick, smirking peck on the lips, Anne hooked her fingers through his and led him downstairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is ridiculous they've been engaged for what?? a month???
> 
> i'm beginning to understand why L. M. Montgomery made them live in different cities and meet as rarely as possible during their engagement lol


	4. and I'll be young and afraid // and I won't miss you again and again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sooo this chapter is kinda boring 
> 
> but it shows what happens when Gilbert B. attempts to convince Anne S. (as well as himself) that maybe they are moving too fast & should do something about it

‘To think that Diana’s wedding is only four days away,’ said Anne musingly. ‘And not so long ago we were just schoolgirls, me, Diana and Ruby, imagining what it would be like to become a wife. I wonder if Diana will like it as much as she used to think she would.’

It was half past five o’clock on Monday afternoon, and - yet again - they were in Hester Gray’s garden, Gilbert seated with his back against a tree and Anne lying with her head in his lap. She had let down her hair, and he was running his fingers through it slowly, revelling in the silkiness of the long coppery strands.

‘Why shouldn’t she? Jerry is head over heels in love with her,’ Gilbert replied, looking down at her with a look full of mute adoration. Anne, however, with her head turned a little to the side, had a thoughtful furrow etched between her eyebrows.

‘I don’t know. It’s just so– so different from what we used to imagine. Perhaps we were very silly back then. Diana used to think she would marry a European nobleman.’

Gilbert sniggered. ‘Somehow, I can’t help feeling Jerry Baynard will make her a much better, more faithful and less dissipated husband than any possible count or marquis ever could.’

Anne seemed lost too deep in thought to pay any heed to this practical observation.

‘And Ruby. . . Ruby wanted a dark, melancholy, tragic hero,’ she went on slowly. ‘She believed it would be very romantical to be able to help him rediscover the joys of earthly existence.’

‘That’s even worse nonsense,’ chuckled Gilbert, running his fingers along the arch of Anne’s eyebrows. ‘With Ruby’s impressionability, they would both end up as depressed alcoholics.’

‘Gilbert!’ huffed Anne, swatting his hand away from her face. ‘You are so—’

‘Rational?’ he put in, smirking and bending down to place a quick kiss on her pouting lips.

Cupping his face in her hands and sitting up a little, Anne made him deepen the kiss.

‘Prosaic,’ she replied, reassuming her former position.

‘Well then, who were _you_ dreaming about?’ Gilbert asked, combing his fingers through the hair at the base of her forehead.

Anne was silent for a moment, looking up at him with eyes that seemed strangely clouded. ‘I tried very much to keep myself from dreaming about anybody,’ she said eventually. ‘Because I firmly believed I would make a terrible wife.’

Gilbert frowned. ‘I remember you used the exact same words that day, soon after my father’s funeral, when you came along with Diana and Ruby to bring me cake or whatever it was.’

‘Yes,’ Anne gave him a pale smile. ‘I was simply mortified. I think I cried all the way home.’

‘What? Why?’ Gilbert queried, his frown deepening.

‘Because I made such an astronomical fool of myself in front of you,’ Anne replied, reaching up to trace a line along his jaw. ‘You have to admit you thought me mad for blurting out something like that.’

‘Not _mad_ , Anne.’ He took her hand in his and brought it up to his lips. ‘Incomprehensible. Elusive. Frustratingly inaccessible.’

‘What big words we do use,’ she mocked, lacing her fingers through Gilbert’s and placing his palm against her cheek. ‘Miss Stacy would be proud.’

‘Don’t change the subject,’ he twitted. ‘I hope you don’t think that any longer now, do you, Anne? About your making a terrible wife, I mean.’

‘Don’t I?’ Anne looked away from him again, trying to keep her expression bland but not quite succeeding.

Taking her by the shoulders, Gilbert forced her gently to sit up so that she had to face him. His eyes scanned her face uneasily.

‘Anne, you realise you’re the only woman I want, right? There is no question of your making a good or a bad wife. You’re going to make the perfect wife for me, and that’s that.’

Anne gave him a wry smile. ‘How would you know, Gil? Perhaps you’re going to regret marrying me sooner than you think—‘

‘There’s no ‘sooner’ or ‘later’ in question, Anne,’ he put in sternly. ‘I’m not aware that I ever expect to regret anything connected with _you_. Why would you even think that?’

‘Because I realise that, by any conceivable standards, I’m hardly good wife material.’ Anne kept her gaze fixed on the ground as she said that.

Gilbert tilted her chin up. ‘You’re perfect by _my_ standards.’

‘How would you know?’ she asked again, her voice strained.

Gilbert sighed exasperatedly, and then quickly leant forward and caught her lips in a kiss. Anne responded immediately, sidling up closer to him. To her discontent, Gilbert broke away almost immediately, making her frown unhappily.

‘That’s how,’ he snickered. ‘Don’t tell me that when we kiss you don’t feel the same way.’

‘Of course I feel that way,’ Anne replied, rolling her eyes. ‘You’re every girl’s dream, Gil. And I’m—‘

She didn’t get to finish, having been silenced with another kiss.

‘And you’re m y dream. Am I yours?’ he asked against her lips.

‘Of course you are. You’ve always been.’ Anne drew back, touching Gilbert’s cheek with the tips of her fingers. ‘Even all those years ago. Because, to be honest, no matter how hard I tried _not_ to imagine anyone particular as my prospective groom, my brain just wouldn’t stop picturing your face.’ She laughed quietly, moving over to sit by his side and lying her head against his shoulder. ‘It used to make me so angry.’

‘Really?’

‘Really. Because you were supposed to be my mortal enemy, not the object of my schoolgirl’s crush.’

‘Was I your schoolgirl’s crush, Anne?’ Gilbert couldn’t help cracking an amused smile.

‘What are you cackling about?’ Anne asked indignantly, holding herself away from him a little. ‘It’s not as though y o u never had a crush on _me_.’

‘I never did,’ he replied solemnly.

‘You never did! Good to know!’ Anne blinked hard, trying to hide the pained confusion his words caused her. ‘Well, I suppose I should have expected as much, seeing that I was an eyesore through most of school—‘ She made to get up, but was prevented from doing so by Gilbert’s firm grip on her waist.

‘Kindly let me go,’ she scoffed, trying to pry his fingers away. ‘I have no wish to inflict my presence on you any longer.’

Gilbert locked both of her wrists in an immobilising grasp and, getting to his feet, pulled her up as well, whirling her round to face him.

‘You are such a fool sometimes, Anne,’ he murmured, backing her against the tree they’d been sitting under. His eyes had that thirsty, demanding expression which Anne felt deliciously thrilled and oddly threatened by at one and the same time. ‘I’ve never had anything so silly as a ‘crush’ on you.’

‘No?’ she replied, trying to sound haughty and ending up squeaky instead.

‘No. I’ve been overwhelmingly, maddeningly, stupefyingly in love with you,’ Gilbert’s lips were now on her neck, his breath tickling her skin in the most titillating manner. ‘ _That_ , yes. But a crush? That’s good enough for silly little schoolgirls who don’t know what they really want.’

‘Obviously, because you were so mature and sure of what you wanted when you were fifteen,’ gasped Anne, still trying, albeit half-heartedly, to wrench herself away from him.

‘Right now, I can only think about one thing I’ve ever wanted,’ Gilbert laid a trail of kisses up Anne’s neck and across her cheek to the corner of her mouth. He held himself a little away and looked her straight in the eyes.

It seemed to Anne that Gilbert’s irises had gone completely black. A thrill ran down her spine, and, almost involuntarily, she gave in and pressed herself flush against him. ‘And what would that be?’

‘You,’ he breathed, the word dying on his lips as he kissed her on the mouth, and there was so much dire need and desire contained in the kiss that, when they finally broke apart, Anne was actually dizzy with breathlessness.

‘Remind me,’ Gilbert said with a smirk, wrapping his arms securely around her waist as she rested her head, eyes closed, against his chest, ‘what was that you said about your not being sure whether we’re meant for each other?’

‘That’s not how I put it,’ replied Anne, the force of her expostulation somewhat weakened by the fact that her voice was muffled by Gilbert’s shirt.

‘But that’s the only thing that matters. The fact that I fell in love with you the first time I saw you, and that since that day each time I see you, you happen to me all over again*.’

Anne was silent for a moment, drinking his words in. Finally, letting out a small, breathless laugh, she said, ‘All right then, I will concede that we may conceivably make a passably happy married couple. But only on one condition.’

‘Yeah?’ he queried, holding her away a little so that he could see her face.

‘That you’ll still talk such sweet nonsense to me _after_ we’re married. Can you imagine that, Gil?’ she went on, one of her hands sneaking round his neck. ‘Just you and me, and a door on which no one can come knocking unexpectedly.’

To her surprise, the words had a sobering effect upon Gilbert. ‘About that, Anne,’ he said, putting his hands on her shoulders and gazing down at her with a serious, concerned frown. ‘I’m sorry. I know I went too far yesterday. But you’re enough to drive a man to distraction,’ he finished with a crooked, apologetic smile.

Anne stared. ‘You’re sorry?’

‘Yes, I—‘

‘And _why_ exactly are you sorry, Gilbert?’ She took a step back and folded her arms across her chest.

‘Because – because it wasn’t right,’ he stuttered lamely.

‘You didn’t like it, then?’ Anne was trying not to let on how embarrassed and hurt his words made her feel.

He shook his head confusedly. ‘Didn’t like it? Are you serious, Anne? Did it seem to you that I didn’t like it? If my liking or not liking the things we – we do,’ he faltered a little, clenching his jaw. ‘If that was any measure of what is right and what isn’t, Mrs. Lynde would have found herself justified in her low opinion of me long ago.’

Anne rolled her eyes. ‘Mrs. Lynde and her opinions! Do you think she herself was such a spotless saint when she was our age?’

‘But she’s at least partially right, Anne,’ Gilbert said with a resigned sigh. ‘Yesterday was proof of that. One moment I talk to you about worrying I won’t be able to control myself around you, and the next—‘ He cleared his throat. ‘And the next, I don’t even _try_ to control myself. Anne, if Marilla hadn’t knocked on that door, if we had been alone in that house—‘ He stopped again, dragging his hand over his face in an attempt to collect his scattered thoughts. ‘You mustn’t trust me like that, Anne.’

Anne’s confused frown deepened with every word he uttered. They gazed at each other silently for a moment, and then Anne said quietly,

‘Gil, of course I trust you. Who else am I to trust? You really are taking all this much too seriously. We wouldn’t have actually done anything that—‘

He interrupted her with a dry, mirthless laugh. ‘Wouldn’t we, Anne? Wouldn’t we? Would you have told me to stop?’

Remembering how much she had yearned for Gilbert to touch her, and how she had lain awake half the night thinking about how only hours ago, on that same bed, Gilbert’s fingers had been within mere inches of the most private parts of her body, and how that thought had again and again made her press her legs together in a futile attempt to assuage some of that inexpressible feeling of void and frustration his brief caress had left her with, Anne blushed, and the ‘yes’ she had meant to utter died on her lips.

‘See what I mean?’ Gilbert smiled wryly, correctly interpreting the meaning of her silence.

‘No, I don’t,’ Anne shot back, regaining some measure of her poise. She reached out and took his hand in hers, tugging him on as she began to walk towards the road. ‘This really isn’t anything to get all gloomy about, Gil,’ she added, attempting a light-hearted tone.

He seemed to be only half-attending to what she was saying. His face was drawn and thoughtful. Slowly, not looking at her, he said,

‘Perhaps I ought to find some kind of work somewhere away from Avonlea for the rest of summer—‘

‘What? No!’ Anne whipped round, gasping his hand tighter. ‘Are you crazy? No! A thousand times no! Gilbert, take it back right now.’

He smiled unhappily. ‘I’m just trying to do what’s best for you, Anne,’ he said, stroking her cheek with the back of his palm.

‘Don’t make me laugh!’ With an irritated gesture, she snatched his hand away from her face. ‘How do you expect me to be happy with the knowledge that you’re considering staying away from me of your own free will?’

It was Gilbert’s turn to lose a bit of his already overstretched patience. ‘Anne, you know very well that if I had my way I would—‘ He stopped, and then went on more quietly. ‘Since apparently I am unable to keep my head around you, I’m trying to find a some kind of sensible solution-'

Anne’s eyes filled with angry tears. She wrenched her hand out of Gilbert’s grasp. ‘I can’t listen to this nonsense any longer! You know what, Gilbert? Do whatever you want! Only, when your desire to be out of the way of temptation has led you to decide you don’t want to be my fiancé any longer, kindly don’t forget to inform me!’

She turned from him, but before she could take even a single step Gilbert snatched at her hand and pulled her back to himself.

‘How on earth,’ he asked slowly, deliberately, looking her straight in the eyes, ‘are even quarrelling about something like this?’ As he spoke, a note of amusement crept into his voice, and Anne couldn’t help responding to it with a small, albeit unwilling, snicker.

‘Gilbert, you make me so mad I hate you sometimes,’ she said, and he smirked and pulled her a step closer, wrapping his arms around her waist again. ‘Although there is a certain charm to your being so prim and proper about it all. You look very handsome when you try to scold me into ladylike behaviour.’

‘Excuse me?’ he chuckled, brushing stray strands of hair away from her face to be able to see her mischievously glittering eyes better. ‘Look here, Anne, we really need to talk about this, so let’s be serious now-’

Anne tried to compose her features into some semblance of attentiveness, but burst out laughing instead. ‘You’re doing it again, Gil,’ she squeaked, hiding her face in his shirt.

‘Doing what?’

‘That thing with your jaw that makes you look so—‘ Anne looked up, searching for the right word. ‘So kissable,’ she finished, pressing her lips to his. Tangling her hands in his hair and standing up on tiptoe, she pressed herself closer, and when she heard Gilbert give a low, quiet groan deep in his throat she broke away and asked,

‘Do you still want to go away _now_?’

An intense look and another kiss, less heated and more lingering, were the answer he gave her. Eventually, they broke apart for good and, hands locked, set off towards the road again.

‘I promise to try and behave, Gil,’ Anne said as they were nearing Green Gables. ‘I won’t trap you in my bedroom ever again. But,’ she couldn’t help giving him a coy sideways smile, ‘if you could nonetheless find a reason to act all strict and unbending around me now and then, it would help keep me focused.’

‘You are ridiculous, miss Shirley,’ he replied, quirking an eyebrow at her. ‘Also, I don’t believe you. But that doesn’t matter, because I’m resolved _not_ to let you tease me any more.’

‘See? That’s the spirit,’ Anne giggled, leaning against the gate and looking up at him innocently. ‘Strict and unbending. Keep it up, and we’re both as safe in each other’s company as two newborn lambs.’

‘Anne, this isn’t a laughing matter,’ Gilbert’s voice was getting serious again. Then, upon perceiving her impish grin, he rolled his eyes in mock exasperation. ‘You’re really going to overstep the mark someday, you know,’ he huffed.

‘ _Is_ there a mark?’ Anne enquired eagerly. ‘I wonder what _would_ happen if I—‘

‘Won't you stop it already?’ he interrupted, cupping her face and leaning in for a goodbye kiss. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow?’ he whispered against her lips.

‘Yhmm,’ she murmured. And then, upon remembering, ‘No, I almost forgot! I promised Diana to go up to Charlottetown with her to help her choose some last-minute decorations, flowers and so on.’

‘And is that going to take you _all_ day?’ he asked incredulously.

‘Not just one day,’ Anne said, frowning a little. ‘We’re actually to stay over for the night at Aunt Josephine’s. But,’ she added slyly, ‘it’s going to be a wonderful occasion for you to find out whether you _really_ want so very much to stay away from me for extended periods of time.’

‘I don’t need to find out,’ he replied, pulling her closer. ‘I love you, Anne. I’ll see you on Thursday, then?’

She nodded. ‘I love you more.’

‘Debatable.’

‘Aren’t you going?’ she asked, tightening her hold on his sleeves.

He chuckled, brushed her lips with his one last time, and disentangled himself from her grasp. Anne opened the gate and then promptly latched it behind herself.

‘See you, Carrots.’

Narrowing her eyes, she blew him a kiss.

Simultaneously, they turned around and walked away from each other in their different directions, both of them wishing they could simply stay together for the night, for always, forever.

Soon, thought Anne.

Ages from now, thought Gilbert.


	5. go on and walk all over me / just don’t walk away / give me the worst of you / cause I want you anyway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I honestly don't know anymore what I wanted to achieve by writing this chapter,  
> other than to show that Gilbert B. is an angel sent from heaven  
> & also it's waaay too long, 
> 
> but - enjoy if you want to, I guess :D

This was the first time since the beginning of their engagement that Gilbert and Anne had to go on for longer than twenty-four hours without seeing each other; it was therefore a very pleasant surprise for the former, as he sat at breakfast on Thursday morning, to see Mary walk into the kitchen with a basket full of eggs in her arms and a yawning redhead trailing in her wake.

‘Anne!’ Gilbert sprang up and rushed towards the girl, who stood waiting for Mary to empty the basket. He grasped her hands and looked into her eyes, grinning like a fool. To his confusion, the smile Anne gave him in return was rather pale and strained.

‘Thank you for fetching them so early, Anne,’ said Mary. ‘Did you have a good time in Charlottetown? Did you manage to get everything you need? A wedding like Miss Barry’s is rather a grand affair, isn’t it?’

‘Yes.’ Anne’s voice, at least to Gilbert’s oversensitive ears, sounded strangely dull. ‘It is. But fortunately Diana has been made for this kind of thing.’ Freeing her hands from Gilbert’s, Anne took back the empty basket and, with a flat-sounding, ‘Bye, Mary. I’ll see you, Gil.’, turned to go.

‘Anne, wait! I’ll walk you!’ She was almost out of the door before Gilbert had regained the presence of mind required to make him follow her.

‘If you don’t have anything better to do,’ Anne replied without either stopping or sparing him a look.

Hastily pulling on his shoes and shutting the front door haphazardly, Gilbert finally managed to catch up with her. His insides were churning with anxiety.

‘Anne, what’s the matter? Has anything happened? Are you ill?’ he asked uneasily, taking the basket out of her hand and winding his fingers through hers. Her skin was cold to his touch.

‘No, Gil, I’m _not_ ill.’ The note of irritation in her voice was barely perceptible, but even so Gilbert found it hard not to throw himself down on his knees in front of her and beg her to tell him what on earth was wrong. ‘I’m just tired. I’m tired of—of everything,’ she finished with a heavy sigh.

‘Everything?’ Gilbert stood still, making her pull up as well. He tried hard not to sound panicky, but didn’t quite succeed. ‘Anne, please, tell me what’s wrong. Have I done anything to make you—‘

‘No, Gil,’ Anne looked him full in the face for the first time, and he was surprised by how tired and unwell she actually _did_ look. ‘This isn’t about you. It’s something that doesn’t concern you in the least.’

‘Anne, everything that concerns you concerns me,’ he said, letting go of her hand and reaching up to stroke her cheek. ‘Anne, you must tell me if you are ill. You really don’t look too well—‘

To his dismay, this innocent remark caused an angry flash to appear in Anne’s dimmed eyes.

‘Thank you very much, Gilbert Blythe!’ she hissed, wrenching the basket out of his hand. ‘This is indeed a nice way to greet the fiancée you profess to find so perfect! Tell her she doesn’t look “ _too_ well”!’

Gilbert opened his mouth to defend his motives, but was prevented from doing so by an impatient wave of the hand and a further current of heated words.

‘Don’t bother! I’ve had quite enough of your compliments for one morning! Ugh! We were supposed to meet in the afternoon, weren’t we? So why can’t you just for once stick to the plans we’ve made together instead of doing whatever you please? I am perfectly capable of carrying this _empty_ basket by myself, despite not looking _too_ well! Don't,’ she backed away as Gilbert tried once again to take hold of her hand. ‘Go home, Gil. I’ll see you in the afternoon.’

With that, Anne turned round on her heel and walked away at a quick pace, leaving Gilbert with a mind reeling with bleak thoughts of what might possibly be her reasons for acting in this incomprehensible way.

***

It was torture to wait until four o’clock, and Gilbert was only prevented from going after Anne immediately by the overwhelming fear of what she might say when they did meet again. The more he thought about it, the more convinced he became that she had met someone in Charlottetown, someone who filled all her romantical expectations in a way he himself never could, and who made her see how inadequate he was in his role as her fiancé.

His knock at the Green Gables front door was answered by Marilla.

‘Hello, Gilbert. Anne’s gone for a walk. I think you’ll find her somewhere close by, probably in Mr Hammond’s orchard. She wouldn’t be up to straying anywhere too far today.’  
‘What? Why?’ Gilbert asked anxiously. ‘Is she ill, Miss Cuthbert? She wouldn’t tell me what’s wrong when I saw her in the morning, but she looked—tired,’ he finished lamely.

To his surprise, Marilla seemed flurried by these well-meant queries. ‘No, of course she isn’t ill. She’s just – she just isn’t quite herself.’

‘Isn’t herself?’ he repeated dully.

‘Do try to be a little more. . . indulgent towards her for the next couple of days, Gilbert,’ said Marilla, avoiding his eyes. ‘I’m sorry, but I’ve left the stove on. Give my kindest regards to Mary.’ Without waiting for Gilbert’s reply, she practically shut the door in his face.

All this made no sense whatsoever. Anne wasn’t herself and he should be indulgent towards her. Very well, but _why_?

***

As predicted by Marilla, Gilbert did find Anne in Mr Hammond’s orchard. She was lying on a blanket spread under one of the trees, her legs bent at the knee and her arms folded on her stomach. He was certain she must be asleep, for when sat down by her side she neither moved nor opened her eyes.

As he looked down at her, Gilbert felt such a wave of love and tenderness surge within him that he couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and gently brushing stray strands of hair away from her face, noticing at the same time how pale and drawn it looked.

Anne’s eyes snapped open at his touch. She gazed up at him silently for a moment, while he kept tracing a line from her temple to her cheek with the tips of his fingers.

‘I’m sorry for the way I’ve acted in the morning,’ she said eventually. ‘It wasn’t the right way to say hello.’

‘Not the best way, perhaps,’ Gilbert admitted cautiously.

It was then that Anne actually gave him a genuine, Anne-ish smile, and Gilbert felt so relieved by the sight of it that without further parley he bent down and kissed her on the lips, albeit tentatively. She grasped his arms and, without breaking away, sat up, sliding her arms around his neck and deepening the kiss.

‘Anne,’ he breathed against her lips, ‘I’ve missed you so much.’

She smiled again. ‘I’ve missed you too, you idiot. And I hate shopping. And weddings. And all that infernal fuss.’

Gilbert’s eyebrows shot up. ‘That’s rather a change of heart,’ he chuckled teasingly.

The next instant he wished he had bitten his tongue off before saying anything, for the unfortunate remark made Anne frown angrily and hold herself away from him.

‘It just somehow doesn’t exactly make me thrilled to have to make a show of myself in front of _dozens_ of people while looking like _this_!’

‘For heaven’s sake, Anne, what do you mean?’ Gilbert stared at her uncomprehendingly. ‘You’re looking as beautiful as ever, I swear. You always look beautiful. I never meant to imply that—‘

‘Good to know that I always look the same according to you!’ Anne interrupted peevishly. ‘Really, it quite does away with my illusions that perhaps I actually look presentable on days when I’m lucky enough not to have a big glaring red spot right in the middle of my forehead!’

Gilbert shifted his gaze mechanically to the part of her face just mentioned. ‘Anne, I swear to you this spot is practically invisible,’ he said soberly. ‘If that’s all you’re worried about, it’ll probably disappear before Saturday anyway.’

She narrowed her eyes at him maliciously. ‘ _All_ I’m worried about? Oh, it’s so bloody easy being a man, isn’t it? Hasn’t it occurred to you, M r Blythe, that by Saturday there may be ten more new spots in every conceivable part of my face? I wonder how you’ll like showing up with me as your fiancée _then_!’

‘Anne, you can’t seriously think that a few spots—‘ Gilbert began rather tersely, losing his patience a little in the face of so much fuss being apparently made about something so insignificant. ‘Anne, what’s wrong?’

For Anne, sucking in a sharp breath, had folded her arms across the lower part of her stomach, and sat hugging it, her knees bent up once again.

With a return of all his momentarily dispelled anxiety, Gilbert put his arm around her shoulders, trying to look into her face. ‘Please, sweetheart, just tell me what’s wrong. Marilla said you weren’t ill, but—‘

Anne raised her head, and he was dismayed to see that she actually had tears in her eyes.

‘Anne, darling,’ Gilbert said soothingly, cupping her face in his hands. ‘Please, just tell me what it is. Stop fobbing me off. I can see something is very much not right. Are you ill and afraid to tell Marilla? You must tell me if you think you might be in any way unwell. You can’t just keep worrying about this all alone. You know I’ll do my best to help you—‘

Anne let out a disdainful sniff. ‘I’ll be all right, Gil. I’ve had to deal with this since I was thirteen, and I’ve managed so far without your help. It’s just that it seems to be getting worse the older I get. Also, the fact that it couldn’t have held off just a few days more, until Diana’s wedding is over—‘

‘What?’ Gilbert frowned, taking her by the shoulders, his eyes scanning her face uneasily. ‘You’ve been dealing with some painful disease for over six years? And you’ve never told anyone? Anne, you—‘

He was interrupted by an exasperated snort. ‘No Gil,’ said Anne with malevolent emphasis. ‘I’m sorry, I wasn’t going to make you discuss this, but I see you just won’t let well enough alone. I’m not ill. I’m simply menstruating.’

Gilbert stared, and then, in a voice in which relief was battling with incredulity, said, ‘Anne, why on earth didn’t you simply tell me you’re not feeling well because you’re on your period?’

‘Because one does not discuss such things with a man!’ replied Anne irritably, shrugging his hands off her shoulders. ‘One does not even let a man _see_ that everything is not all right if one can possibly manage it! But when I got it this morning, on top of these spots and feeling so awful and tired, and it’s going to be hell to have to dress up for the wedding—‘ she heaved a heavy sigh, looking up into Gilbert’s eyes a little defiantly. ‘You can’t possibly imagine how much I hate it. I wish I had been born a boy.’

Gilbert couldn’t help cracking a small smile at those words. ‘I can’t say I quite concur with you there, Anne. I’m rather thankful myself you were _not_ born a boy. But,’ he added hastily, taking her hands in his and looking her earnestly in the eyes. ‘I very much wish I could make it easier for you somehow. And it’s not like I’m just _any_ man, Anne. I’m your future husband. I don’t want you to feel that you have to hide it from me when you’re in pain like this.’

The quiet reasonableness with which he spoke finally succeeded in eliciting a softer look from Anne. ‘Well, I must say this is quite contrary to the received opinion that men are away at the mere mention of this subject,’ she observed, quirking an eyebrow at him.

‘You forget I’m a student of medicine, love,’ chuckled Gilbert, moving over to her side and putting an arm around her shoulders.

‘That’s nothing to boast about, since apparently all your medical knowledge wasn’t enough to enable you to diagnose my symptoms properly, D r Blythe’ she teased, snuggling up to him with a sigh.

‘You have a very strong point there, Anne,’ Gilbert admitted humbly. ‘All I can say in my defense is that there has only been the most perfunctory mention of the subject in all the handbooks I’ve read so far.’

‘Naturally,’ sneered Anne, nestling her head against his chest. ‘I bet the whole subject is as much slurred over as possible. You poor males must be protected from sordid details. I’m telling you, Gil, it’s hell being a girl. I remember how terrified I was when I got my first period, and Marilla’s only response that she’d had to deal with this too, for _many_ years.’ She let out a resigned half-laugh, and, sitting up a little so that she could look into Gilbert’s face, went on with an arch smile, ‘And then next morning I went to school feeling like someone was sticking knives into my back and belly, and a certain boy felt so sorry for me he let me beat him in a spelling bee.’

‘What?’ Gilbert furrowed his eyebrows. ‘Impossible. I never would have—‘ he paused, and then, his eyes getting wide in sudden recollection, grinned. ‘Engagement, right? We stood there, in front of the whole class, and suddenly I realised there was something not quite right with you, and that the best thing I could do would be to just misspell the next word so that you could go back to your desk and be left in peace.’

‘At first I actually thought you were dense enough to genuinely not know how to spell this word,’ giggled Anne, kissing the edge of Gilbert’s chin and making him roll his eyes in mock offence. ‘But as soon as I had time to think it through properly, I realised the truth. I was so mad! Gilbert Blythe, that hateful, conceited boy, to let me win out of pity, and then rub it in by actually congratulating me!’ She turned towards him, kneeling up and cupping his face in her hands. ‘You really used to have a way of getting on my nerves, I can tell you that.’

With that, she kissed him, first on the mouth, and then down to his jawline and throat. To her disappointment, Gilbert groaned quietly and pulled her face back up to his. ‘So you’re saying all my gallantry was quite wasted on you?’ he asked, smirking.

Anne frowned. ‘It wasn’t gallantry. It was deliberate, calculated teasing.’

He was going to contradict her, but, in the light of what went before, thought better of it and kissed her instead, making the caress deliberately slow and gentle.

‘Gilbert, I’m really going to look a fright on Saturday,’ Anne whined, breaking away. ‘I just _know_ I am. I shouldn’t have let Mrs. Barry waste so much money on that bridesmaids’ dress. It’ll only draw out my awful looks by contrast.’

‘Anne, I was resolved not to contradict you any more today—‘ Gilbert began, but was promptly interrupted.

‘Were you?’ Anne asked with an impish grin.

‘Yes, I was. Miss Cuthbert told me to be indulgent,’ he chuckled.

‘Poor Marilla! She’d die of embarrassment if she knew how coolly we’ve been discussing the subject of “womanly flowering time”,’ Anne kissed the tip of Gilbert’s nose, and he smiled down at her adoringly. ‘Are you quite sure you’re willing to put up with this kind of behaviour form me every month after we’re married?’

‘I can think of a few things that may be a possible compensation,’ he murmured against her lips, and his voice was so low it made Anne shiver deliciously. They looked into each other eyes for a few moments silently, intently. Then, Gilbert cleared his throat and, stroking Anne’s cheek gently, asked, ‘Well, what about that dress? The one you’ve said you’re going to look so outrageously beautiful in?’

‘Ugh,’ groaned Anne with irritation, subsiding again into her former position, her head on Gilbert’s chest and his arm wrapped securely around her. ‘Outrageous is actually the word. It’s done according to a design that's apparently all the rage in France at the moment, and the neckline is positively indecent. Mrs. Lynde is liable to faint the moment I walk into the room.’

‘Wait, what?’ Gilbert looked down at her, frowning, and quite forgetting his resolve to be as compliant as possible. ‘What do you mean, indecent? Is Diana having one just like that too? And Jane, and Ruby? Or are you the only one who’s going to be parading there half-naked?’

‘Excuse me?’ Anne sat up, staring at him in indignant disbelief. ‘Did you think I was going to attend the wedding of my best friend in a ridiculous old rag like this one?’ She pointed to the modestly buttoned-up collar of the blouse she was wearing. ‘Or maybe you’d prefer me to go tell Mrs. Barry that she needn’t have laid out an _absurd_ sum of money on a fashionable dress for me, because my fiancé is too morbidly jealous to let me wear it?’

All through this tirade, Gilbert sat looking at her with a face that was steadily getting more and more tense with suppressed laughter. When Anne had finished, he said slowly, trying not to let his amusement show, ‘Anne, would you mind if we didn’t discuss any more sensitive subjects just now? Perhaps let’s just go—‘

‘I knew it! Just like a man!’ Anne scrambled up to her feet, and, directing her steps towards the path to Green Gables, continued acerbically over her shoulder. ‘It’s just no good trying to get your opinion on _any_ subject, Gilbert. All you can do is give out presumptuous, ill-founded judgments! I wonder how Mary is capable of putting up with _both_ you and Bash on a twenty-four hour basis!’

‘Anne, wait!’ Gilbert got up hastily, and, getting to her side in a few long strides, immobilised her by placing his arms around her waist from behind. ‘I love you,’ he murmured into her hair.

Anne took in a deep breath, turned round, gave him a quick peck on the jaw, and, freeing herself from his grasp, hooked her fingers through his. ‘I love you too,’ she said, trying to sound terse, but unable to keep the corners of her mouth from curling up in a smile. ‘Thanks for sticking around.’

Gilbert’s eyes crinkled up at the corners as he pulled at her hand to bring her closer to his side. ‘Anytime, Carrots.’


	6. they say that the world was made for two // tell me all the things you want to do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure I like this chapter, but here it is :D

‘You look wonderful, Diana,’ said Anne with admiration, having done buttoning and lacing up the elaborate bodice of her best friend’s wedding dress. ‘You’re made for dresses like this one.’

Diana dimpled into a smile of unadulterated happiness, looking approvingly at herself in the big mirror that stood in the corner of her bedroom.

Anne came up to her, and for a moment they gazed in silence at their joint reflection.

‘It’s time I went and called your mother to pin on your veil, dearest Diana,’ said Anne softly, turning round to face her friend.

Diana’s eyes filled with tears. ‘Oh, Anne, I’m so nervous. What if something goes wrong? What if I trip up walking down the aisle in these infernal heels? What if Jerry changes his mind?’

‘I’ll give him such a thrashing he’ll swim back to Europe faster than a White Star Liner,’ replied Anne laughingly. Then, taking the other girl’s hands in hers, she continued more earnestly, ‘Diana, everything will be _fine_. Don’t cry,’ she added, even though her own eyes were beginning to sting. ‘Oh, Diana, I’m so happy for you.’

The girls embraced, and then Anne said solemnly, ‘Good luck, my dearest kindred spirit. I’ll see you in front of the church.’

Diana tried to speak, but couldn’t, and therefore settled for embracing Anne once again and kissing her on the cheek. Anne, pulling away reluctantly, gave Diana’s hands a last reassuring squeeze and slid out of the room in search of Mrs Barry.

***

Gilbert was standing at the foot of the small flight of steps to the church, waiting for Anne to join him. He arrived about ten minutes earlier with Bash and Marry, and had been told by a very important-looking pageboy that Miss Shirley hadn’t shown up yet.

He and Anne were to be Diana and Jerry’s bridesmaid and best man, and, while Anne had apparently been up at the Barrys’ house since early morning, Gilbert’s main duty lay in taking care of the wedding rings and lending Anne his arm as they walked down the aisle behind the bride and her father.

A stately vehicle rattled up the church drive, and four people in various states of excitement scattered out: a very pale Jerry Baynard, a very imposing-looking Josephine Barry, a very agitated Minnie May, and a very radiant Anne Shirley.

Gilbert’s eyes lit up at the sight of her, but all he had time to observe as she gave him a quick peck on the lips by way of hello was that she was wearing something blue and flowing, and that her hair was gathered up at the back of her head and adorned with a small bunch of white flowers. Immediately afterwards the attention of all present was seized by Miss Barry.

‘Hold up, young man, for heaven’s sake hold up!’ she boomed dictatorially, giving Jerry a solid pat on the back. ‘You’re going in there to be married to a beautiful girl, not guillotined!’

‘Jerry, Diana couldn’t wait to see you,’ put in Anne, coming up to him and giving his arm a reassuring squeeze. ‘You’ll see it’ll be all right.’

‘The rings!’ Jerry blurted out, looking round wildly. ‘What about the rings?’

‘I’ve got them, buddy,’ said Gilbert, grinning. ‘Don’t worry, everything’s in its proper place.’

‘They’re coming!’ piped in Minnie May, tugging at Aunt Josephine’s sleeve. ‘Diana’s coming!’

‘Good gracious me!’ The old lady, pulling her niece with one hand and pushing Jerry with the other, hurried into the church.

A few seconds afterwards, the Barry’s carriage pulled up in front of the church. Mr Barry, solemn and emotional, helped first his wife, and then his elder daughter out. Mrs Barry was inclined to be teary, but was speedily ushered inside by Aunt Josephine, who, having deposited Jerry in front of the altar, came back for her niece.

Diana turned to Anne and Gilbert, who stood at readiness side by side.

‘Keep your fingers crossed for us,’ she said, looking from one of them to the other. ‘Is Jerry in a very terrible state?’

‘He’s just impatient to see you, and I don’t wonder,’ replied Gilbert promptly, while Anne simply smiled, her throat tight with suppressed tears. ‘You really look quite like a fairy queen, Diana.’

‘Time to go, Diana,’ said her father in a somewhat faltering voice, offering her his arm.

Exchanging one last tender look, Anne and Gilbert followed in their wake into the church.

***

As Diana and Jerry stood saying their vows, Gilbert found his eyes straying involuntarily to Anne’s face.

Was it really possible that, in a foreseeable and more or less determined future, the two of them were going to stand in this exact same spot, swearing to be together for better and worse till death do them part?

Was it possible that Anne Shirley, the elusive, inimitable Anne whom he had loved and longed for for so long, was going to walk up the aisle to him, Gilbert Blythe, so that they could be pronounced husband and wife and bound together by a vow that was, for what it was worth, unbreakable?

When the vows were over Anne turned her head to look at him, her eyes were glowing with the light of such sweet promises Gilbert no longer had any doubt that the answer to all those questions was yes, and it made him wonder what he had done to deserve such unbounded happiness.

***

Gilbert and Anne were forced to part again immediately after the ceremony for the simple reason that they had come and so had to depart in different vehicles.

Anne arrived at the Barry’s house, where the wedding reception was to be held, a few moments before Gilbert, and, as she was nowhere in sight, he decided to venture upstairs in search of her.

As he turned the corner directly at the head of the stairs, he collided with a slight, light-stepping figure which, as he put out his hands to grasp her arms and save her from tumbling backwards, turned out to be Anne.

It was then that Gilbert took his first direct look at her that day, and, for a moment, he felt rather breathless. He had only ever seen her in modest high-collared blouses for the past few years, and this was something completely different.

Anne had talked about an indecent neckline; but, to be honest, Gilbert wasn’t sure whether the dress she had on could be considered to have a neckline at all. He supposed she must have had some additional shawl pinned on at the church, or else the expanse of creamy, freckle-dusted skin could hardly have escaped his notice. Her shoulders were bare as well, a strip of lace across the upper part of her arms acting the part of sleeves.

Almost of their own accord, his eyes followed a downwards path past the dip between her collarbones to where, covered by the constricting pale-blue bodice, her breasts were heaving tantalisingly up and down with her quickened breathing.

‘Gil,’ Anne said quietly, and he looked up at her face with blurry eyes. ‘So, you like the dress after all?’ She smiled impishly, and then tugged at his hand, moving back towards the stairs. ‘Come on, let’s find ourselves some seats.’

Find seats they did, but Gilbert could focus neither on the speeches made by the newlyweds’ parents, nor on the food on his plate, nor on the meaningful looks thrown from time to time in his and Anne’s direction by Mrs Lynde and her cronies.

In short, he could focus on nothing save the memory of Anne’s exquisite naked skin, which seemed to have burnt itself into his pupils. She was seated by his side, but during the early part of the dinner they had no occasion to talk, and he had kept his eyes firmly fixed on his plate.

Then, however, as the atmosphere became more relaxed, Anne asked him some question, and Gilbert made the mistake of turning to her. His eyes were arrested by the sight of the cleavage revealed at the very edge of her lace-trimmed bodice as she sat leaning towards him.

Clenching his jaw, he looked up into her face. The look of innocent curiosity painted on it seemed genuine enough; she was evidently intent on receiving his answer and completely unaware of what she was doing to him.

‘Come on,’ he said abruptly, taking her by the hand and rising from the table. Many people had by now risen and dispersed themselves all over the Barrys’ big dining room and the adjacent terrace, so their departure wasn’t taken much notice of.

‘What’s wrong, Gil? You’ve been acting weird all through dinner, you know,’ Anne said a little tersely, trying to wrench her hand away. He didn’t let go, dragging her on down the empty corridor.

‘What’s this place here?’ Gilbert asked as they came up to an uninviting-looking door.

‘This? The library. Gil, what’s the matter with you? Aren’t you feeling well?’

Without answering, he opened the door and pulled her in, shutting it behind them.

Anne finally succeeded in wrenching her palm out of his grasp and stood facing him, her arms folded, a deep blush spreading slowly over her pale skin as Gilbert’s inscrutable dark eyes took her in.

‘Gilbert—‘ she began, but he interrupted her, taking a step closer.

‘I’ve told you time and again, Anne,’ he said, his voice calm and low. ‘That it would be better for you to stop trying my patience. I’ve asked and asked you not to test my boundaries. But you always know better, don’t you? You wouldn’t listen.’

‘Gil—‘ began Anne uncertainly, the expression on his face, at once tense and impenetrable, making her feel rather light-headed. She took a step back, and her hand grasped the edge of a small table standing against the nearby wall.

Gilbert, his eyes locked with hers, took another step closer. ‘I’ve told you how difficult it is for me to keep my head around you, Anne. And yet you choose to show up like _this_ ,’ His eyes flickered to her quivering chest, and he clenched his jaw. ‘To a party attended by the whole of our town, and expect me to sit by and not be bothered. Tell me, Miss Shirley, is that reasonable?’

‘I—Gil, I’m sorry, I’ve told you—‘ Anne moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue and began again. ‘It’s just a dress, Gil. I’ll go get my shawl if you don’t like it like this.’

He laughed quietly, closing the distance between them. ‘That won’t be necessary just yet,’ he breathed against her lips. ‘Because I’m not done admiring it.’

‘Gilbert, we have to go back,’ objected Anne weakly, as he moved his lips down to her neck. His hands here on her waist, and he pushed her delicately backwards so that she had to slide up to sit on the edge of the table.

‘Your skin is so soft, Anne,’ he murmured, laying a trail of kisses along the curve of her shoulder. ‘So smooth. I love it.’

‘Gil,’ she sighed helplessly, tangling her fingers in his hair.

He moved lower, pausing in his tracks to suck delicately at the pulse point in the dip between the collarbones.

Anne gasped and moved restlessly, spreading her knees with a rustle of her skirts so that he could edge in closer.

He did, his arms sliding over her back up to her neck and his mouth coming back to hers. He kissed her deeply, urgently, and then moved his lips back down to her jawline. She threw her head back a little, giving him better access as her showered her throat with kisses.

‘You have no idea, Anne, what it does to me to see you like this,’ Gilbert murmured, and she shivered as she heard the raw lust it his voice. ‘You’re so beautiful. I want you so much— I want you so much it hurts.’

‘I want you too, Gil,’ Anne said in a breathy voice, her whole body so unnerved she was thankful to have the table support her. ‘All the time. I think about being with you all the time.’

With a low, impatient groan, Gilbert nuzzled lower, until his lips reached the edge of her bodice. His left hand still on her neck, he cupped her right breast with the other, tracing circles with his thumb over its mound.

Anne brought his face back up to her lips, arching her chest into his hand, the corset she was wearing underneath her dress making his touch feel frustratingly subdued.

Open-mouthed and panting, they kissed, and Gilbert moved his hand up until it touched the skin directly above the edge of the dress. He trailed the tips of his fingers along it until he reached the dip where the cleavage between her breasts began.

‘Gil,’ Anne whimpered pleadingly against his lips, and he moved the hand that he had kept pressed to her neck lower, frantically tugging at the lacings of her bodice in an attempt to loosen it.

Suddenly, a muffled burst of laughter reached them from the dining-room. It brought the fact that there were literally dozens of people within a few yards of them clearly into both Anne’s and Gilbert’s minds, with the effect that his hand froze on her spine while she leaned back and looked into him full in the eyes, her lips slightly parted and her cheeks flushed.

Gilbert’s other palm was still pressed to the fabric over her breast, and when he realised this he withdrew it quickly, stepping a little away so that Anne might slide down onto the floor.

‘Retie that ribbon, Gil,’ she said quietly, putting her hands up to her dishevelled hair and turning her back towards him. ‘If Mrs Lynde or one of her friends saw it like this, they’d raise hell.’

With shaky fingers, Gilbert did his best to make the bow at the end of Anne’s lacings as even as he could. When he had finished he put his hands on her shoulders, turning her gently round to face him.

‘I’ll go get that shawl,’ she said, giving him a regretful smile.

‘You don’t have to,’ he replied, his voice hoarse.

‘I’d rather.’ She gave him a quick peck on the lips. ‘I want you to be able to actually respond when I talk to you.’

Gilbert smiled crookedly, but his eyes remained intense as they scanned her face.

‘Don’t go getting morbid about this, Gil,’ Anne warned him, running her fingers down his cheek. ‘This was a special kind of situation. The next time I’ll wear this kind of dress will be to o u r wedding reception,’ she added with an arch smile.

He kissed the inside of her palm, still silent.

‘I see you’re temporarily speechless,’ Anne laughed, freeing her hand from his grasp and moving towards the door. ‘I’ll go upstairs and pretend I’ve been powdering my nose in Diana’s room. You stay here and come out in a few minutes, okay?’

Gilbert nodded. Anne blew him a kiss and left the room.

***

About two hours later, Diana and Jerry set out towards the train that was to carry them to Charlottetown on the first stage of their honeymoon trip, the main destination of which was New York City.

Anne and Gilbert, as well as a few other guests of the younger generation, had stayed behind a little longer to help clean up, so that when they eventually set out towards Green Gables dusk was already falling and, though the day had been very warm as September days go, the air was rather chilly.

Before they had gone on more than a few steps, Gilbert shrugged off his jacket and put it round Anne’s shoulders.

‘Another point against this unfortunate dress,’ she joked, wrapping the baggy garment tighter around herself. ‘It’s made to catch colds in.’

‘The dress is lovely, Anne,’ Gilbert replied, taking her by the hand and giving her a crooked smile. ‘What’s unfortunate is the fact that I’m such a ridiculous, lovesick fool when it comes to you.’

‘Excuse me?’ laughed Anne, swinging their hands. ‘You’re lucky it’s been such a beautiful day it would be a shame spoiling it with a fight, or else I would get mortally offended with you. Besides, it’s not my fault you w o u l d go on being in love with me no matter how terrible I acted.’ Then, with a small shiver and gripping his hand tighter, she added, ‘I’m glad you did, though. I don’t even want to imagine how horrible it would have been if you had actually stopped liking me before I realised how important you are to me.’

‘Well, then don’t imagine it,’ Gilbert put in, stopping and pulling her in for a quick, sweet kiss. ‘It never was or is going to happen.’

‘I’ll hold you to it.’

He smirked. ‘You’re welcome to. Come on,’ he tugged at her hand. ‘It really gets cold so quickly now.’

‘Well, it’s the middle of September already, after all,’ said Anne absent-mindedly.

They walked on in silence for a few moments, and then, rather abruptly, Anne said,

‘I’m so glad the summer semester ends in June.’

‘What? Why?’ asked Gilbert confusedly.

‘Because,’ she said slowly, looking up at him through the dusk with shining eyes, ‘we will obviously get married right away, and have all those long July and August evenings to ourselves. Can you imagine what happiness that will be, Gil?’

His response was to let go of her hand and wrap his arm around her waist, drawing her close to his side. ‘I think I just can, love,’ he murmured into her hair.

‘And we will obviously get married in the morning,’ Anne went on musingly. ‘As early as the preacher consents to make it.’

‘Since when are you such an early bird?’ asked Gilbert amusedly.

Anne scoffed. ‘I don’t know about _you_ , Mr Blythe, but I don’t see the point in waiting until the afternoon when we could just get it over with in the morning and be married that many hours earlier.’

‘I like the way you’re thinking,’ he chuckled. ‘But can you imagine the outrage that would cause among Mrs Lynde and her corps? They might actually refuse to attend.’

‘They won’t have to refuse. They won’t be invited.’

‘What?’ he laughed incredulously.

‘I mean it, Gil. Unless you’ve got your heart set on having them, of course,’ she added teasingly. ‘But as far as I’m concerned, the guest list includes only Marilla, Bash, Mary, Diana and Jerry, and possibly Cole, if he happens to be in Canada. Do you want to add anyone?’

‘Dr Ward. He’s always done his best to help me along, and he was my father’s friend.’

‘Of course, Gil,’ agreed Anne softly. ‘Anyone else?’

‘No. But, Anne,’ he went on a little uncertainly. ‘I was sure you’d want a big, spectacular wedding like Diana’s. You seemed to enjoy it so much.’

‘I did enjoy it,’ she replied calmly. ‘But I would never want to have to go through all this fuss when w e are married. Would you?’

‘The only thing I want is to make you mine, Anne,’ Gilbert replied promptly, unhesitatingly. ‘I don’t care about anything else.’

They had arrived at the Green Gables front door, and Anne turned towards him and wound her arms around his neck. ‘Then that’s settled? An early morning ceremony, a small, simple reception, and then a happily ever after?’

Gilbert nodded, resting his forehead against hers. ‘I love you so damn much, Anne,’ he said, leaning in to kiss her.

‘Mind your language,’ she giggled, deepening the kiss.

There was a sharp rap at the nearby kitchen window. They broke off abruptly to see Marilla standing there, candle in hand, a stern frown on her face.

‘One day, she’s going to skin me alive,’ sighed Anne, freeing herself from Gilbert’s embrace and handing him back his jacket.

‘It would be a pity,’ he replied with a roguish grin. ‘I’ve been getting rather fond of your skin, you know.’

Anne snickered, and, giving him a last quick peck on the lips, disappeared into the house.


	7. I need you on my skin // come over, pull me in

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in this chapter, we learn that doctor Gilbert indeed has the magic touch  
> I'M SORRY GUYS  
> *evil maniacal laughter forever*

Gilbert went away to medical school in Kingsport at the beginning of October, and was not due to visit Avonlea sooner than the first weekend in November.

Anne spent most of her waking hours either teaching, grading her student’s papers, or herself studying books on English literature and history borrowed from the Charlottetown library, and it was only during the cold, long autumn nights that the longing for Gilbert’s presence, for the warmth of his touch and the sound of his voice, came over her so strongly it was at times almost physically painful.

It was Friday afternoon in the third week of October and Anne, having wished her students a nice weekend and dismissed them, was sitting at her desk in the Avonlea schoolhouse, staring at the stack of papers in front of her with dull, unseeing eyes. A sensation of weariness and discouragement, inspired by the unruliness and obtuseness evinced by some of her students during the day, had come over her, and made it seem pointless to move or try to do anything at all.

Nothing, Anne decided, had any purpose or meaning, and life was just an endless vista of gray, monotonous, eventless days.

Just as she had reached that uplifting conclusion, there was a sharp, quick knock at the schoolhouse door. Certain that it would prove to be one of the less supportive parents come to complain about something or other, Anne heaved a heavy sigh and forced herself to get up and go answer the summons.

Looking, in an inexplicable way, somehow taller and more handsome than when Anne had seen him last, Gilbert Blythe was standing there on the threshold, a bunch of late apricot roses in his hands and a happy grin on his face.

‘Gilbert!’ she squeaked, throwing both her arms around his neck. ‘Oh, _Gil_!’

‘Mind your roses,’ Gilbert chuckled into her hair.

Laughing, Anne let him go and, taking them out of his hands, buried her face in the flowers. ‘Oh, they _do_ smell heavenly,’ she said, looking up into his face with limpid, shining eyes. ‘But,’ she added, putting them down on a nearby desk and winding her arms around him again, ‘I’d much rather mind _you_ than the roses just now.’

Drawing her closer, Gilbert kissed her with such sweet tenderness Anne felt she might cry. She pressed herself flush against him, running her fingers through his curls.

‘God, Anne,’ he breathed, breaking away and gazing down at her with eyes that were filled with love and admiration, ‘I’ve missed you so damn much.’

‘Mhmm,’ she murmured, taking his face between her hands and kissing him again. ‘I know exactly what you’re talking about. I’ve missed you too. All the time.’

Eventually, they broke apart, and stood for a moment with their foreheads pressed together, each drinking in the other’s closeness.

‘How come you’re back so soon?’ asked Anne, stroking his cheek with the tips of her fingers. ‘You said you wouldn’t be able to come until at least the beginning of next month.’

Gilbert grinned down at her in a dazed kind of way. ‘One of our professors got sick, and all his classes for the following week are cancelled. Which means I get to have a free Monday. And I simply couldn’t pass up such an opportunity to see you.’

Leaning into him, Anne laughed with her face pressed against his chest, and as the scent of his skin invaded her nostrils she was filled with such unadulterated joy it made her shiver. ‘I love you so much, Gil,’ she whispered, laying a trail of soft kisses along his jawline. ‘So much. And I’ve missed you so.’

Gilbert’s hold on her waist tightened, and he bent down to catch her lips in yet another kiss, quick and hard. ‘I love you, too. I thought sometimes I was going to go crazy with how much I’ve missed this.’

‘Missed what?’ she teased, smiling into his eyes with spurious innocence.

‘This,’ he replied in a low voice, kissing the corner of her mouth. ‘And this,’ he continued, moving along her cheek to her earlobe. ‘And this.’ His lips brushed the side of her neck.

Anne had quite forgotten what an overwhelming effect his caresses had on her, and when he began to suck on a little pressure point at the base of her throat she felt so unbearably weak with desire her knees fairly buckled into his.

‘Steady,’ Gilbert laughed, his hands moving up to hold her gently by the arms.

He leaned away a little, and although he was smiling his eyes were dark, smouldering with the same passion Anne could feel building up in herself. Suddenly, she felt extremely hot all over, and, extricating herself from his grasp, reached once again for the flowers, just to have a moment in which to regain her equilibrium.

‘Where have you found them? I thought the freeze we had at the beginning of this week has quite killed all the flowers off,’ she said, hiding her flushed face in the fragrant bunch.

Gilbert stood watching her with a smirk, even though he, too, was somewhat taken aback by the intensity of the physical passion which, by virtue of their recent separation, was now much stronger than ever before. ‘You know I have a knack of finding out-of-the-way nooks full of hidden treasures. I can show you the way tomorrow, and then you will be able to take your students on a little botanical expedition, Mistress Shirley.’

‘ _Indeed_ ,’ Anne huffed, lying down the flowers and walking over to her desk. ‘If you knew what hard work teaching really is, you’d pity rather than poke fun at me.’

‘Is is as bad as all that?’ Gilbert asked, shoving his hands into his pockets and walking a little way further into the classroom, looking around himself curiously. ‘I would have said you shouldn’t have any trouble intimidating students into perfect obedience with just one look of cold contempt, the way you do me sometimes.’

‘Very funny,’ sneered Anne, sending him a scathing glance.

‘See? That’s what I’m talking about.’

Shaking her head, Anne began collecting her things and stuffing them into her bag. ‘I’m serious, Gilbert. Some of those children are veritable little demons. I really can’t believe any of us, save for Billy and his gang, ever behaved so nasty on purpose.’

‘I wouldn’t be so sure,’ laughed Gilbert, wandering in between the rows of desks. ‘I remember quite lucidly how Miss Stacy had to constantly remind you and Diana to stop talking during class, and how once she even threatened to make you sit with me if you didn’t stop.’

Anne looked up at him sceptically. ‘Miss Stacy would never have threatened me with _that_. She wasn’t cruel.’

‘Hey!’ Gilbert pouted, pretending to be offended. ‘Would having to sit next to me have been such very cruel punishment?’

Anne walked over to where he was leaning against one of the desks. She looked around, her brows furrowed in thought, and said in a slow, somewhat absent-minded voice,

‘It would have been the death of me. The ultimate humiliation.’

‘Oh, _yeah_?’ Gilbert drawled mockingly, crossing his arms on his chest and watching her with narrowed eyes.

She looked up at him with a quick smile. ‘Do you know the desk you’re leaning against right now is the one you used to sit at?’

‘Is it?’ Gilbert looked genuinely surprised. ‘How odd. I wouldn’t remember.’

Anne nodded, turning her back upon him and looking at the desk opposite, next to the window.

‘Which means this one was mine,’ she said musingly. Walking up to it, she touched the knotted woodwork with the tips of her fingers. ‘It’s weird how I never thought about it before, but with you here all those memories come back. We were quite a pair of fools, weren’t we?’

She heard Gilbert’s steps behind her, and then his arms snuck around her waist.

‘I’m still a fool,’ he said, kissing the nape of her neck. ‘A fool for you, Anne Shirley.’

His hot breath against her skin made Anne shiver, and she turned round softly to face him.

‘It’s nice saying hello after such a long absence, isn’t it?’ she asked, smiling a little and reaching up to touch his cheek. ‘It seems to me you’ve been gone for _ages_ , not just three weeks.’

Gilbert bent down to kiss her, and immediately the desire of a few minutes before rekindled and quickened between them. With a soft sigh, Anne yielded to the pressure of his tongue and let him explore her mouth.

‘Anne,’ he breathed hoarsely as she moved to perch on the edge of the desk and pulled him closer, her nails grazing his shoulder blades through the fabric of his shirt. Their kisses increased in urgency, his lips working frantically, demandingly against hers. He ran his hands down her bodice, past her waist and down to her hips.

As soon as Anne felt the touch of Gilbert’s palm against her thigh, the kiss they had shared in her bedroom back in the summer came back to her mind, and she quite instinctively parted her knees, heedless of anything but the warmth emanating off his skin. With an impatient movement, she reached down and pulled her cumbersome skirts up until they formed a bundle around her thighs.

Gilbert broke off, panting, and looked at her with eyes that were at once wild with lust and questioning. Anne, who was by now quite past the point of feeling ashamed, put her slender palm on top of his that was resting on her thigh, and, leaning into him, whispered feverishly, pleadingly,

‘Please, Gil-- Please, do something-- I can’t stand it any longer--‘

With a sharp, shuddering intake of breath, he kissed her again, more softly, and then she felt his hand slide under the fabric of her bunched-up skirts and up over her silken drawers.

Then Gilbert began to stroke her lightly, with infinite delicacy, though the smooth fabric of her underwear. They had stopped kissing, merely keeping their faces close together, open-mouthed and panting. Quite out of their own accord, Anne’s hips bucked forward, and, taking the hint, Gilbert increased the pressure of his fingers. Then, finally, he touched her in just the right spot, and she heard herself let out a soft whimper. As he went on, her moans increased in volume and frequency, and finally she came, crying out in pleasure and burying her face in his shoulder in a futile attempt to muffle the sound.

She stayed like that for a moment, shivering with the aftershocks of this new-found ecstasy. Gilbert slid his hand from under her skirt and wound his arms around her, holding her to himself tenderly, lovingly as she slowly regained the proper use of her senses.

‘I love you,’ he whispered reverently, reaching up to stroke her hair. ‘I love you so much.’

Anne took in a deep breath and looked up at him, flushed and glowing and lovely. ‘Do you have any idea how you’ve just made me feel?’ she asked with an embarrassed little giggle.

He kissed the tip of her nose. ‘I may have _some_ ,’ he said, smiling.

‘I wish-- I wish I could do the same for you sometime.’

Gilbert’s eyes darkened, and Anne felt her cheeks heat up even more.

‘Sometime,’ he repeated, bending down to kiss her.

Before she could respond properly, there came a knock at the door.

‘What the--‘ Gilbert began irritably, breaking the kiss off unwillingly. ‘It’s five in the afternoon. Who on earth comes here at such an hour on a Friday?’

‘I’ve no idea.’ Anne slid off the desk and made an attempt to rearrange her skirts and smooth down her hair. ‘How do I look?’

‘Wickedly enchanting,’ replied Gilbert, trying to pull her in again.

Rolling her eyes, she swatted his hands away and made for the door, on which someone was knocking again, with redoubled insistence.

It was, of all people, Charlie Sloane.

‘Hullo, Anne,’ he said, smiling complaisantly. ‘I was just driving past and saw the lights were still on in here, so I thought I might give you a lift home.’

Anne opened her mouth to reply, but before she could think of anything to say Gilbert spoke up, his voice full of fake geniality, ‘Hello there, Charlie.’

‘Gilbert?’ Charlie’s face fell so visibly Anne had a hard time keeping herself from snickering. ‘What are _you_ doing here?’

Gilbert came up to Anne and put his arm around her waist.

‘I’ve come to take my fiancée home,’ he replied in a matter-of-fact tone. ‘You know, just making sure no one undesirable is trying to weasel his way into Anne’s good graces in my absence.’

Charlie stared foolishly, and then, gulping, said, ‘Oh-- well-- Yes, I’m sure you’re right.’

‘It’s extremely nice of you to offer us a ride home, Charlie,’ cut in Anne hastily, before Gilbert could frighten the poor googly-eyed boy with any more passively-aggressive comments. ‘Just wait a moment, I’ll go collect my things. Come help me, Gil.’

She went over to her desk, and as she bent down over it she hissed,

‘I can’t believe you’re being jealous of poor Charlie! Really, Gil, you’ve no sense of proportion.’

‘None whatever where you are concerned,’ Gilbert replied sulkily. ‘I admit it freely. And Charlie Sloane has no business driving around waiting for a chance to offer you a lift.’

‘You’re crazy.’

She made to walk towards the door, but he caught her by the waist and, turning her round, placed a hard, heady kiss on her pouting lips.

‘I am,’ he said as she looked up at him with dazed eyes. ‘About you. And I can’t help it if I can’t stand even the thought of anyone trying to take you away from me.’

‘Gil,’ she sighed. ‘I only want you. You know that.’

‘I--‘

‘Are you coming?’ Charlie’s voice, reedy and somewhat annoyed, came from beyond the door.

Giggling, Anne took Gilbert by the hand and led him out of the schoolhouse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did Anne just get to have an ultra hot makeout session on her old school desk with the boy who used to drive her crazy with just staring at her from the other side of the classroom?   
> yes, indeed she did :D bye-bye sweet innocence, I guess


	8. and I am the fire and I am the forest // and I am a witness watching it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is weird to say the least of it. . .  
> but at least it introduces a new thing for them to quarrel about hahaha
> 
> Happy New Year 2019, everyone! Szczęśliwego Nowego Roku!

Gilbert didn’t come home again until Christmas Eve and, what was worse, when he finally _did_ come, it was impossible for him and Anne to get a moment alone for the entirety of the following week. Both his own house and Green Gables were constantly full of people dropping in and out, and the weather outside was so harsh that to sneak out for an evening walk was out of the question.

All through the week between Christmas and New Year’s Eve they had to content themselves with hasty, lamentably brief kisses stolen from each other on the sly in a corner of the kitchen or out on the staircase landing - which, instead of alleviating their thirst for each other, only served to make them more desperate for a time they could spend alone, unsupervised and unchecked by the awareness that Marilla, Bash or Diana might at any moment walk in upon their moment of intimacy.

It would be difficult to say which one of them took it harder: Gilbert, who was constantly exposed to the sight of Anne flushed with the excitement of the holiday merrymaking, the exposed skin at the base of her throat tinted warm pink, or Anne, who, as she sat at the table opposite Gilbert, could not keep her eyes from straying from his lips to his long, deft doctor’s fingers and reliving in her memory the kisses they had shared in the empty schoolhouse on an October afternoon that now seemed to have happened forever ago.

Initially, New Year’s Eve hardly seemed to promise the advent of the much-desired tete-a-tete. To be sure, at three o’clock Marilla left for Mrs Lynde’s, where a special meeting of the Ladies’ Committee was to be held - but, since Gilbert had gone the previous afternoon to visit Dr Ward in Charlottetown, and was not due to come back until late in the evening, Anne had before herself the prospect of wandering about the house and, by way of entertainment, picturing the look on Gilbert’s face when she saw him tomorrow and told him about the wasted opportunity they’d had for enjoying a few hours’ uninterrupted peace in each other’s company.

She was just wondering whether it wouldn’t be better to just lie down and sleep her frustration away when there was quick, sharp knock at the front door.

Anne went out into the hall with an irritated frown on her face. Who _could_ it be? She was in no mood to entertain chance visitors. She _wouldn’t_ be until she got a chance to kiss Gilbert well and proper, and to make him--

‘Gilbert?’ she gasped, staring up into his frost-flushed face.

He grinned down at her. ‘Mind if I come in? It’s rather cold out here--‘

Before he could finish, Anne grabbed hold of his coat-sleeve, pulled him inside and, shutting the door with a kick, pushed him against the wall and crushed her lips to his, her palms shooting up to bury themselves in his snow-covered hair and drag his head lower for better access.

He responded in a heartbeat, his mouth opening against hers, his arm going up to encircle her waist as he gathered her body closer.

They only separated when neither of them had any more oxygen to spare, and it was a moment before either could speak.

‘Well, this _is_ nice,’ said Gilbert eventually, his voice husky and his eyes very dark and intense.

Anne sighed deeply, sinking against him and inhaling the scent of his clothes.

‘Gil, I’ve missed you so terribly much,’ she mumbled against his chest. ‘I was just thinking I might as well go to sleep so that at least I might dream about you if I got lucky enough. And now you’re _here_ ,’ she added, reaching up to kiss him on the jaw.

‘I know, love,’ he murmured, his fingers skimming her cheek. ‘I’ve nearly gone demented too. It is torture to see you so beautiful and so tempting for _days_ and not be able to do anything about it.’

‘Do what?’ Anne giggled, feeling positively light-headed as she trailed kisses along his jawline all the way to his earlobe.

‘Show you how much I adore you,’ Gilbert breathed, bringing her lips back to his own. ‘Anne, you’re driving me crazy, you _know_ you are. I wish I could take you somewhere - anywhere - where we could be alone --‘

Anne smiled into the soft kisses he kept giving her in the intervals of this speech. ‘And what if I told you we’re alone right now?’

He pulled away instantaneously, looking down at her with palpable disbelief. ‘Are you serious?’

She laughed. ‘Do you think I would have greeted you like this if there were worthy elderly gentlewomen prowling around anywhere near?’ She stepped out of his embrace as he continued to stare in surprise. ‘Marilla’s gone over to the Lyndes’. She won’t be back before eight.’

Gilbert’s eyes sparkled, the corners of his mouth quirked upwards in a slow, tentative smile. ‘Really?’ he drawled.

‘Really,’ mimicked Anne, unbuttoning his coat with an innocent tilt of her head. ‘You weren't supposed to be in Avonlea until that time either, you know.’

‘Friends of Mrs Ward’s swooped down on the house,’ Gilbert replied, standing immobile and allowing Anne to push him away from the wall and pull off his coat one sleeve after another. ‘Lots of garrulous, middle-aged ladies. Thought I’d better clear off.’

Anne hung up his coat on the nearby rack, locked the door, and, turning around and crossing her arms, said teasingly,

‘Middle-aged? Are you sure they were not actually beautiful temptresses in their early thirties ready to take a poor, young student of medicine under their protective wings in return for a little attention?’

Gilbert lifted his eyebrows sceptically. ‘They certainly weren’t temptresses, whatever else they might have been. None of them had red hair.’

‘ _What_ hair?’

‘Red,’ he repeated, coming up to her until she had to tilt her head back to be able to look at him. His eyes were smouldering. ‘Beautiful, fiery red. The most beautiful colour in the world.’

Anne, whose knees were becoming more unsteady by the second, opened her mouth to retort, but didn’t get the chance, for Gilbert, taking her face in his hands, kissed her, hard and _oh so impossibly wonderful_ , the touch of his tongue on her own as he tasted her impatient and rough, and sending shivers to the farthest recesses of her body.

When he finally pulled away and, eyes closed, rested his forehead against hers, Anne said weakly,

‘Don’t you _dare_ call my hair red ever again.’

Lazily, he opened his eyes a slit. ‘Or?’

‘Or-- or--‘ she stammered, the contrary impulses to kiss him again and to show him that there were some boundaries to what her pride was prepared to take even from _him_ contending within her, ‘or I’ll never let you so much as touch me with your little finger again,’ she finished rapidly, slipping out of his arms and heading towards the drawing room, where the embers dying in the fireplace threw a hazy golden glow around the walls.

After a rather prolonged moment, Gilbert entered the room as well. When she replied to his smile with a deepening of her frown his eyebrows shot up.

‘Are you genuinely angry with me?’ he asked with amused disbelief as he sat down next to her.

‘Yes, I _am_ ,’ replied Anne sharply, moving away from him so that their thighs wouldn’t touch. ‘Just because you’re a wonderful kisser doesn’t mean you can insult me in my own house and get away with it.’

‘I see,’ Gilbert said slowly, sinking back into the sofa.

This lack of penitence riled Anne up.

‘For your information, Roy Gardner described my hair as _chestnut_ only the other day,’ she snapped thoughtlessly. ‘He said it reminded him of an autumn sunset.’

Quickly, Gilbert sat up again, his jaw tense. ‘I see Gardner has been playing the poet in my absence.’

‘No, he hasn’t. He simply doesn’t think it funny to offend people by pointing out the defects of their appearance.’

‘The _defects_ \--‘ Gilbert broke off, and then, with a movement startling in its suddenness, swooped down on her so that she ended up pinned between him and the sofa’s arm. ‘Anne, just so that we’re clear on this point,’ he went on, and the quality of his voice made her insides tighten up in thrilling expectation. ‘I don’t think the colour of your hair is a defect. I adore every single inch of your body and every single hair on your head, and you know it.’

‘So you say,’ replied Anne without really knowing what she meant. She was way too overwhelmed by the warmth which, emanating off Gilbert’s body, seemed to pervade her clothes and then pool somewhere deep down inside her. With a movement which came to her so naturally she was barely conscious of willing her body to make it, she shifted underneath him into a half-reclining position and bent up her knees, making him shift as well until he was hovering above her with his knee between her thighs.

‘ _Anne_ ,’ he murmured, bending down to shower her throat with kisses. There was the slightest trace of stubble covering his face, and as it scratched against her skin Anne felt a wave of desire more raw and urgent that anything she’d ever felt before surge up within her and, seeking some kind of relief, moved her hips down until the pulsating spot between her thighs ground against Gilbert’s knee.

The sheer wantonness of the movement made Gilbert’s mind grow dazed, and, with a low groan, he shifted so that he was hovering above her with only his elbows keeping his body from completely crushing into hers. Anne could feel his hardness press into her thigh through the clothes that separated them.

‘Gil,’ she gasped, arching her hips upwards to intensify the contact.

He shuddered as though a wave of electricity had run through his nerves. He ground his own hips against hers with such fierceness Anne let out a small stifled whimper and clutched at his shoulders.

Simultaneously, there was a knock at the front door.

Immediately, she felt Gilbert whole body stiffen and then, with a slow exhale of breath, he lifted himself off her. Anne felt like she might cry with desperation, but instead she just lay there, gazing at him unblinkingly with glazed eyes as he shifted to a sitting position on the edge of the sofa. His eyes closed, he swallowed hard, and then turned to look at her. His hand was shaking as he lifted it to stroke her cheek.

‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered.

Anne continued to gaze up at him, the blood ebbing slowly away from her cheeks.

‘Why?’ she asked eventually.

He gave her a smile that was both bitter and weary. ‘You know why. This isn’t how I want this to happen.’

‘Well, I’m sorry too,’ she replied, slowly raising herself into a sitting position. ‘I’m sorry you stopped.’

‘Anne, you don’t understand,’ he put in rather brusquely. ‘Once-- once it happens, it’ll only be more difficult to--‘

The knock came again, louder.

‘Oh my _God_!’ snapped Anne, getting up with a jolt and beginning to straighten herself up. ‘This kind of thing happens so consistently I beginning to suspect either you or Marilla cause it telepathically. Do I look _very_ much like the brazen hussy I am?’

‘Anne--‘

‘Do I?’ she interrupted, heedless of his serious tone. ‘I have to go open this door or else that fool outside, whoever it is, is going to unhinge it.’

‘Maybe it’s your poetically minded friend Roy,’ Gilbert, whose hold on his own sense of angry frustration was beginning to slip rapidly, suggested acidly. ‘Ask him in, I’m sure I’ll be glad to receive from _him_ a lesson on how to treat _my fiancée_ properly.’

‘You ridiculous boy!’

He crossed his arms and sat back on the sofa, looking after her with a frown as she left the room.

A man’s voice which he failed to recognise greeted Anne and, after a moment, she entered the drawing room preceded by a short, plump man in late middle age with a distinctly pompous manner. Anne herself was pale and visibly disconcerted.

Gilbert sprang up from the sofa, meeting the stranger’s disapproving eyes with an inquisitive stare of his own.

‘This, Reverend Brown, is my fiancé Gilbert Blythe,’ said Anne in strained tones.

‘I’m sure I’ve never seen you at church, young man, have I?’ said the Reverend by way of hello.

‘I. . . I was there just now, at Christmas,’ replied Gilbert uncertainly.

‘That doesn’t count,’ professed the Reverend, sitting down heavily in a nearby armchair. ‘Even the worst heathens go at Christmas. I’m talking ordinary Sundays.’

‘Gilbert is living in Kingsport at the moment,’ supplied Anne quickly, sitting down on the sofa at a respectable distance from him. ‘He’s studying medicine.’

‘Ah, _I see_ ,’ said the Revered, lifting his eyebrows. ‘A future doctor. That’s a worthy profession to have chosen. A difficult one, too.’

‘I like challenges,’ laughed Gilbert. He shot a sideways look at Anne and, catching her eye, added, ‘Both in professional and personal life.’

Anne, although bent upon proving him how much of a fool he was, could not help returning the warm smile her gave her.

The Reverend, for his part, could not help noticing it.

‘So, when’s the happy ceremony to take place?’ he asked, making them both break eye contact and look at him guiltily. ‘I’m referring to your wedding.’

‘Not for two and a half years, unfortunately,’ said Anne, pressing her palms, which were folded in her lap, tightly together. She very much disliked being reminded of that fact.

‘Ah, _I see_ ,’ came the sing-song reply. ‘A long engagement. That’s a true trial of a man’s constancy.’

He looked expectantly at Gilbert, but it was Anne who spoke up first.

‘I don’t see how it is more difficult for a man to be constant than a woman,’ she said rather hotly.

‘Women are not put so much in the way of temptation. Men are more liable to stray from the path of faithfulness, and it is the truly virtuous woman’s duty to forgive such failings in her superiors.’

‘Really! I’m sorry, Reverend, but I’ve never heard such nonsense.’

This, said in an unmistakably sneering tone, finally managed to break through the Reverend’s unruffled composure.

‘You had better take care to cure the girl of all these newfangled ideas about equality,’ he observed to Gilbert. ‘It is a husband’s duty to keep his wife from imagining herself fit to discuss such subjects.’

Gilbert’s face went tense. ‘Anne is better educated than me on every subject except anatomy,’ he replied with forced calm. ‘It would be rather ridiculous if I started telling her what she can and can’t discuss.’

‘It’s a common failing among young men to fawn on their fiancées,’ continued the Reverend knowingly. ‘Matrimony and their wives’ lack of proper housekeeping skills soon cure them of it. My advice to you, young man, is not to spoil her too much right now so that she might not feel the change too acutely once it comes.’

‘I plan to put all my energies into making sure there won’t ever be any change in my attitude towards Anne. Also,’ Gilbert added, and as Anne turned to look at him she saw his jaw tense up, ‘I think we should _both_ immediately stop talking about her as though she wasn’t present in the room.’

‘Who exactly are your parents again, young man?’ was all the response this speech received.

‘They’re dead,’ replied Gilbert shortly. ‘What does that have to do with anything?’

‘How long?’

‘My father died eight years ago.’

‘Ah, that explains a lot. The vociferous young lady here is also an orphan, if I recollect correctly?’

Anne, who could feel in her mouth the metallic taste of blood from where she had bit the inside of it too hard, replied as coolly as she could,

‘Yes, I am.’

‘You haven’t thought proper to inquire into her origins?’

This persistent exclusion of Anne from the conversation was too much even for Gilbert’s patience. Reaching out to take her hand, he moved closer to her and said, his voice steely,

‘With all due respect, you will either address us both or not at all, Reverend.’

The Revered, getting somewhat red in the face, said in the tone of one who was indulging the unreasonable whim of a fractious child,

‘As I understand, you plan to start a family. Has it never occurred to,’ sardonically, ‘ _either of you_ that it might be wiser to find out exactly what kind of genes you’re likely to propagate in your offspring?’

Anne felt Gilbert’s body tense up beside her. Herself, she was driven past the point of artificial civility.

‘In short, you mean to ask whether Gilbert is not afraid of getting me pregnant--‘

‘Miss Shirley!’

‘--in case the child should end up a criminal or a lunatic, which is what its unknown grandparents might have been?’

‘Miss Shirley! Is this the way for a young lady to talk in the presence of gentlemen?’

‘It’s the only way to talk about these matters,’ replied Anne recklessly. ‘The honest way. Now at least Gilbert knows what the question really is, and he can answer you just as plainly, yes or no.’

She was not half as sure of herself as her words suggested, and as she looked up at Gilbert’s face she wondered whether it had actually ever occurred to him to wonder about these matters. Was it possible that he actually _was_ worried about what possible trouble may lie dormant in her genes, only he was too much of a gentleman to talk about it?

The thought made her bite the inside of her mouth in anxiety, but before Gilbert could reply Revered Brown, getting up, said,

‘It is the part of those who are old and wise to forgive the follies of those who are young and in error. But my personal opinion is that you are two children who know nothing about real life.’ Then, as though the thought had only now occurred to him, ‘Where is Miss Cuthbert? It’s her I’ve come to see.’

Both Anne and Gilbert had got up the moment he did, and now, guilty wrenching her hand away from Gilbert’s and immediately upbraiding herself mentally for allowing the old man’s disapproving looks to get to her, Anne said,

‘She’s out at a Ladies’ Committee meeting.’

The Reverend stared. ‘Are the two of you all alone in here, then?’

‘I’ve only just dropped in on my way from--‘ began Gilbert, but Anne cut in angrily,

‘Don’t explain yourself, Gilbert! I simply don’t see, Reverend, how you’ve got any right to be asking such questions or implying _things_ \--’

The Reverend’s smiled a slow, batrachian smile. ‘Think over what I’ve told you, young man. This young lady seems to imagine she’s living in some kind of European bohemia, not an honest Protestant country. You’re leaving this house with me right now, I’m sure I needn’t say why.’

‘No, he’s not! That’s absurd!’ cried Anne, exasperated by the dishonesty which, to her mind, was at the heart of the whole situation.

Gilbert turned to look at her, his expression strained. ‘Anne--‘ he began quietly, but was immediately interrupted by the Reverend.

‘You may both be sure I’ll talk to Miss Cuthbert about this lamentable business the first chance I get. Now come with me, young man.’

Gilbert looked at Anne again, and she thought that if he had been anyone else than himself she would despise him for giving in to sham conventionality so easily.

‘Go if you think it right,’ she said shortly, tonelessly.

Without another word, he followed the Reverend out of the room.

Anne waited to hear the door close behind them. Then she sat down and began to cry.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just to be on the safe side: it's not my intention here to ridicule anybody's religion! I and my whole family are (more or less) practicisng Catholics, and we spend half our time complaining about how terrible, stuck-up and out of touch with reality some priests are. . . so there :D
> 
> also, I'm sorry I've not been replying to comments lately, but I'm simply run off my feet with both college work and house chores... I still read each and every one of them though, I promise!


	9. I picture it, soft // and I ache

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> last update of 2018, the year that made my ever-present love of Shirbert grow even stronger by introducing me to AwaE!!
> 
> Isn't it nice to think that tomorrow is a new *year*, with no mistakes in it yet?

Moments passed, and Anne sat hugging her knees to her chest on the sofa, watching the embers die on the fireplace and letting darkness engulf her. She had stopped crying, and as she grew calmer she also grew colder; but even when her teeth started chattering she couldn’t find in herself the willpower to get up and do anything about it.

After some time, she heard the front door creak open.

‘Anne?’ called Marilla’s voice anxiously. ‘Anne! Where are you?’

Anne cleared her throat. ‘Here,’ she replied, and her own voice sounded hollow in her ears.

‘Have you decided to turn this house into a tomb, child? Why on earth are you sitting here in pitch black darkness?’

‘I fell asleep,’ Anne lied, fumbling blindly on the nearby table. She lighted a candle and went over to the fireplace to relight the fire.

‘Leave this alone,’ said Marilla, coming with her own candle into the room. ‘We’re going straight to bed, both of us.’

There was something in her voice that put Anne on the alert.

‘Is something the matter, Marilla?’ she asked, trying to sound natural.

Marilla’s eyes flicked over the girl’s face, cold as steel. ‘Go to your room, Anne. We’ll talk tomorrow.’

‘But--‘

‘I said go upstairs, child,’ repeated Marilla sharply. ‘So long as you live under this roof, you do as I say, no matter how mature it may seem to you you’ve grown.’

‘Marilla, _please_ \--‘

‘Go. Upstairs.’

Anne daren’t put up a fight any longer.

 

***

 

Next morning, when Anne came downstairs, Marilla was already in the kitchen, clattering around.

‘Sit down,’ she said upon seeing Anne.

The girl obeyed, and although her face was quite impassive her hands were clasped together so tightly under the table she could feel the nails digging into the skin.

‘I met Reverend Brown on my way home yesterday. Gilbert Blythe was with him.’

Anne made no reply.

Marilla came over to the table and sat down opposite her.

‘Don’t you have anything to tell me?’ she asked, her voice chilling in its ominous calmness.

‘What about?’ Anne shot back rather sharply, getting peevish against her better judgement.

‘Kindly keep your voice down.’

‘What did that old croaking toad tell you?’

Marilla closed her eyes and heaved a heavy sigh. ‘Anne, if you keep behaving like a child I’m going to have to treat you like one. Either get a hold on yourself and talk to me like a reasonable person, or else we’re going to have to consider your engagement broken off.’

‘Marilla!’ Anne cried, springing up in horror. ‘This is absurd! You have no right! _Nobody_ has _any_ right to interfere with what’s between me and Gilbert, and it’s simply absurd how everybody keeps trying!’

‘I have every right, so long as you are under my care,’ interrupted Marilla acidly. ‘Anne, this is the real world, not some play pretend you’ve made up for yourself! There are things you have to take into account whether you like it or not! Convention, custom, decency--‘

Anne laughed, shrilly. ‘ _Decency_? Marilla, weren’t you the one to always keep on about how Gilbert can be trusted absolutely?’

‘This isn’t a question of my trusting either him or you, Anne. It’s a question of keeping things respectable. And if you flaunt your irregular behaviour--‘

‘I - _we_ \- didn’t flaunt anything! Don’t you see, Marilla? We are just two people who love each other, and want to spend a little time in each other’s company without having somebody constantly bursting in upon us! What is there to make a such a goddamn fuss about?’

‘Mind your language, young lady!’ Marilla snapped curtly.

‘I’m tired of minding things!’ By now, Anne was quickly approaching the point of no return, and she knew it, but she simply didn’t have the power to stop. ‘You old people go around prating about decency and respectability but the truth is you’re just a band of hypocrites who would keep up appearances even at the cost of personal happiness! And nothing, _nothing_ is more important!’

Marilla’s face was a blank mask.

‘If you’ve done lecturing me about what is and isn’t important, kindly go dress for church.’

Anne stared. Was _this_ all the answer she was going to get? Suddenly, she felt rather small and very foolish as she sat there under Marilla’s ruthless gaze. Things hinted at but never fully revealed about how as a young girl Marilla had to give up love because of filial duty flashed through her mind.

But it would be making an even more palpable fool of herself to turn around and become quiescent now.

‘I’m not going,’ she declared coldly.

Marilla didn’t even reply. She simply scraped her chair back and, with impossible clam, left the kitchen.

 

***

 

Although he was only twenty-three, Gilbert had been used to feeling fully adult for many years now. Ever since his father’s death, and even before that, he had had to take full responsibility for himself, and he realised that if he was to make his way in the world and fulfil his dreams it could only be by hard work, integrity and self-control.

It had been, therefore, a bitter pill to swallow to be treated like a wayward schoolboy by Reverend Brown.

But what was even worse was the look Marilla Cuthbert gave him when she met them just outside the Green Gables gate.

He _had_ to somehow make her understand that he had not forfeited her trust.

The mass finally came to an end, and he made his way through the exiting crowd to where Marilla was walking slowly beside Rachel Lynde.

‘Miss Cuthbert, can I speak to you a minute?’ he asked, disregarding the curious look on the other woman’s face.

Marilla nodded curtly, and he followed her out of the church’s gate.

‘Is-- is Anne unwell?’ he asked as soon as they were out of other people’s hearing.

‘It depends what you mean by unwell,’ came the curt answer.

Under Marilla’s steely gaze, Gilbert felt more like burying his head in the sand than he’d ever done in his life.

However, he gathered himself together.

‘Can I come see her?’

A tight-lipped smile appeared on the elderly woman’s face.

‘This is the first time in the eight years the girl has been under my care that you’ve thought proper to ask my permission,’ she said with bitter mock-surprise.

This was unnervingly true.

‘Miss Cuthbert--‘

‘Stop wasting your breath, boy,’ she cut him off sharply. ‘Better late than never.’

 

***

 

The road passed in oppressive silence. The house, when they entered it, was very quiet as well.

Gilbert stood in the hall irresolutely, thinking that a full-on scene would be better than this nerve-wracking calm.

‘Take off your coat,’ snapped Marilla. ‘Anne is here all right. She wouldn’t have left until she talks to me again, not even to see _you_.’

His heart feeling heavier by the second, he took off his coat and followed Marilla into the kitchen.

‘Anne, come downstairs!’ she called sharply. ‘Sit down,’ she added to Gilbert, pointing to a chair.

After another few moments’ silence, Anne, her face pale with patches of red, entered the room. At the sight of Gilbert, she instinctively moved in his direction.

Marilla’s peremptory tones stopped her in her tracks.

‘Anne, come sit down here,’ she pointed to the chair opposite Gilbert. ‘I’ve let you rave at me in the morning, but enough’s enough. We’re going to talk sensibly now.’

Anne transferred her gaze to Marilla. Slowly, she moved away from Gilbert and to the appointed seat. Then, impulsively, she seized Marilla’s hand.

‘Marilla, I’m so sorry,’ she said earnestly. ‘I shouldn’t have talked the way I did. I don’t think _you_ are a hypocrite. I--‘

‘Thank you,’ replied Marilla acidly. ‘That will do. Now listen to me, both of you.’

Gilbert frowned involuntarily, looking up at Anne. She met his gaze, her eyes flashing green.

‘And kindly look at me when I’m talking to you.’

Swallowing thickly, he transferred his eyes to Marilla.

‘Gilbert,’ she began, giving him a very direct look. ‘I have direct authority over Anne,’ (from the corner of his eye, Gilbert saw Anne bite her lip) ‘but none over you. I want you to know that I only presume to talk to you in this way because I believe your father’s views in the matter would have coincided with mine.’

The mention of his father made an even heavier weight settle in the pit of Gilbert’s stomach.

‘I understand, Miss Cuthbert,’ he replied quietly.

‘Good. I’ll try to be short. I hope you both realise by now that what happened yesterday was utterly unacceptable.’

‘Was I supposed to throw him out?’ asked Anne sardonically. ‘Would _that_ have been acceptable?’

Marilla gave her a stern glance and, sensing the approach of another storm, Gilbert put in quickly,

‘I shouldn’t have come so late. I’m sorry. It’s my--‘

‘No it isn’t!’ interrupted Anne, flashing him an angry look. ‘It isn’t _your_ fault, Gilbert! If it’s anybody’s, it’s--‘

‘If it’s anybody’s, it’s mine,’ Marilla cut her off, making them both look back at her. ‘I have allowed you way too much liberty. You are - or think you are - a pair of grown-up people engaged to be married, and yet you meet on the same basis you did when you were just two school kids. _That’s_ what’s unacceptable, and _that’s_ what’s going to have to change.’

‘Are we not to be allowed any privacy, then?’ protested Anne with exasperated disbelief. ‘Marilla, as things are now, we get to see each other about once in three months!’

‘All the more reason you should have somebody around to make sure you don’t try to make up for lost time in inappropriate ways.’

‘Marilla, this isn’t fair!’ said Anne, beginning to cry a very little with both anger and embarrassment.  

‘Hush, child!’ snapped Marilla. ‘Gilbert,’ she said, turning towards where he sat torn between his desire not to side against Anne and his internal conviction that the noble old lady was at least partially right. ‘I hope you see the truth of what I’m saying right now.’

Feeling Anne’s burning glance on his face, Gilbert, who didn’t have his fiancée’s ability of stubbornly shutting his mind to the unpleasant and undesirable consequences of their actions, said with forced calm,

‘Yes, Miss Cuthbert, I believe I do.’

‘Perfect!’ spat Anne viciously, crossing her arms.

‘I’m glad as well,’ Marilla picked up ironically. ‘I’m glad at least one of you realises what world we live in. The escapade of tomorrow, for example, could easily cost you your post as schoolmistress,’ she finished mercilessly.

‘ _What_? On what grounds?’ asked Anne, staring.

‘On grounds of immoral behaviour. One word from the Reverend, and you are fired.’

‘That would hardly be fair!’

‘Miss Cuthbert is right, Anne,’ put in Gilbert, receiving in response a scathing look.

‘I’m glad we’ve reached this conclusion,’ said Marilla, scraping her chair back. ‘What time are you leaving, Gilbert?’

Gilbert sprang up as well. ‘Three in the afternoon.’

Marilla nodded. Then, her demeanour getting the least little bit softer, she said,

‘You have half an hour to say your goodbyes.’

With this, she left the kitchen.

Anne sat stiffly in her chair, looking unblinkingly in front of herself.

Gilbert went over to her side and pulled her to her feet. He stroked her face gently as she looked at him in silent misery for a moment.

‘I hate this,’ she said finally. ‘And I hate myself for the way I’m acting, but I just can’t help it. It seems to me there’s some awful conspiracy which is trying to impute things to us when all we want is to be with each other.’

Gilbert didn’t have the right answer to this. He simply put his arms around Anne’s back, drawing her into a tight embrace, and she lay her cheek against his chest, melting into his warmth.

‘I love you,’ he whispered into her hair. ‘Anne, I’m so sorry I’m making you wait so long. But I swear I’ll make it worth it.’

‘I’m sorry you had to go through all this,’ she mumbled into his shirt. ‘It must have been terribly embarrassing.’

‘It was,’ Gilbert admitted with playfully exaggerated solemnity. ‘I don’t think I’ve blushed this much since the day I blurted out something foolish which made Bash and Mary assume that we’d slept together. Do you remember? That was before we got engaged.’

She looked up at him. The moment their eyes met they both burst into a quiet laugh.

‘That was the day you woke me up at dawn,’ Anne said, smiling impishly into his eyes. ‘And I came outside to meet you, looking the most terrible mess.’

Returning the smile, he bent down to kiss her, and she leant into his lips with a sigh.

‘You looked perfect,’ he said between kisses. ‘I couldn’t sleep for a week after that.’

‘ _Really_?’ Anne drawled against his lips. ‘And why was that?’

By way of replying, Gilbert kissed her harder, and he didn’t stop until her lips were swollen and her breath came in short, panting gasps. Then he kissed her some more.

‘Don’t worry too much about all this mess,’ he said, cupping her face in his hands and looking into her eyes with an earnest, intense gaze. ‘You know Marilla only means well. She’s worried about you. And, however much we may dislike it, she’s right.’

‘Do you really believe that?’ Anne asked, scrunching up her nose.

He sighed helplessly. ‘The Reverend _could_ get you fired. If I was hoping for a medical practice here, he _could_ make it impossible for me to get it.’

‘Yes, but do you believe people are right to interfere so much with what’s between two people who love each other?’ she persisted.

Gilbert clenched his jaw, frowning a little in irritation. ‘It’s only to prevent us from going too far. You know that as well as I do.’

‘I think we should be trusted to take care of that ourselves.’

He met her defiant eyes with his own sceptical gaze.

‘I mean it,’ she asserted stubbornly. ‘I don’t believe we could ever do anything _really_ wrong.’

‘Not morally wrong,’ he agreed. ‘But, Anne, you’ve seen the effect you have on me. I don’t believe I could say no when it came to it.’

Anne rolled her eyes. ‘That’s bosh. You _keep_ saying ‘no’.’

Gilbert gave her a half-hearted smile. ‘Perhaps the next time I’ll let you take that part over, and then you’ll see how much fun it is.’

She sniffed dismissively. ‘That’ll be our wedding night, they way things are going. Perhaps,’ she continued mischievously, ‘I _shall_ go on saying ‘no’ then, just to spite you.’

His eyes got darker, and he tightened his hold on her waist. ‘Somehow, I don’t think you will,’ he murmured, bending down to touch his lips to hers again.

‘Don’t be too sure of yourself.’

‘Mhmm.’

‘Gil--‘

‘Hmm?’

‘Write often.’

‘I will.’

‘And come home again quick. And manage it so that we might be the only two people left in the village when you do.’

He chuckled against her lips. ‘Perhaps I’ll bribe Bash to sneak you into my bedroom.’

‘Promise you will.’

‘Anything,’ he kissed a trail down her neck to that tempting dip between her collarbones. ‘Anything you like.’

Anne brought his lips back up, her eyes sparkling. ‘I’ll hold you to it.’


	10. the only room with a view is a room with you in it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> aaaaaaaaand the unstoppable children are back at it with an incredibly long, disgustingly sappy chapter!

‘Mary, there’s something I want to ask of you.’

‘Yes, darling?’

‘Do you think it would be possible for me to sleep in Gilbert’s room tonight?’

Mary Lacroix gave Anne a long, level look.

The girl was staying over at the Lacroixes’ for the simple reason that Marilla had accompanied Rachel Lynde to Charlottetown for an overnight stay on their periodical visit to the doctors. It was the first time she’d gone to stay the night since Matthew’s death, and she was very much against the idea that Anne should be left all alone at Green Gables.

Anne was steadily working herself into a fury at the suggestion that she would not be able to deal single-handedly with a fire or a burglar, and at just that moment Mary entered the kitchen, having dropped in with some freshly baked apple pie. She immediately offered to put Anne up for the night.

‘Are you certain this won’t be any trouble, Mrs Lacroix?’ asked Marilla sceptically.

‘None whatever,’ Mary replied promptly. ‘Anne is our family now, Miss Cuthbert. We shall be delighted to have her with us at least for a few hours.’

It was then settled that Anne should stay the night at the Blythe farm. The obvious supposition was that she would sleep in the guest room. As it now turned out, it was not obvious to everyone.

‘Please, Mary,’ she pleaded, getting somewhat pink in the cheeks. ‘No one will _ever_ know. I’ll never breathe a word about this to _anyone_.’

‘Not even Gilbert?’ asked Mary slyly.

Anne’s blush deepened. ‘I might just possibly mention it to him. But,’ she added quickly, ‘no one else. It’s nobody’s business.’

Mary continued to regard her pensively. Then, her mouth spread in a warm, affectionate smile.

‘All right,’ she said, laughing a little awkwardly. ‘I suppose it really doesn’t matter.’

‘It does to _me_ ,’ Anne smiled, her eyes lighting up. ‘Thank you so much. It’s simply--‘ she swallowed, looking away. ‘It’s difficult, sometimes. Most of the time, really.’

‘It’s all right,’ said Mary quickly, something in the girl’s tone, some almost desperate note, striking a sympathetic chord in her heart. ‘I understand you, Anne.’

Anne gave her a grateful smile. ‘Thank you. It means the world to me, it truly does.’

The older woman, who was occupied in ironing while Anne was folding the linen, worked in silence for a moment. Then she said,

‘Gilbert is a good man, Anne. He’ll make you a good husband. And in this world--’ The girl looked up at the slight break in Mary’s voice, and the latter gave her a rueful smile. ‘As things are now, it is very much in the man’s power to either make your life tolerable or to make it hell. It may change in the future - I hope it will - but for now--‘ shrugging her shoulders, ‘If they are worth loving, they never try to take advantage of their position. Trust me,’ she finished with a mirthless little laugh, ‘ _I_ would know.’

‘Is your life with Bash all you hoped it would be?’ asked Anne quietly, made bold by the confidential atmosphere.

‘It’s much more than that,’ replied Mary without hesitation. ‘And whenever any little thing goes wrong, it’s usually through his being too altruistic, or too honest, or too truthful. Of course, I’m hardly flawless myself. But somehow, we balance each other out.’

Anne smiled uncertainly. ‘I wish I could say the same about me and Gilbert. But I’m so selfish sometimes, and he’s hardly got Bash’s carefree optimism.’

‘No, that’s true, he’s almost _too_ down-to-earth,’ agreed Mary, frowning slightly. ‘But you’re certainly not selfish, or only superficially so. Also,’ she added with a smirk, ‘I think you’re forgetting about one _very_ important factor.’

‘His obsession with red hair?’ offered Anne, who was in reality feeling rather inclined to be depressed and tried to cover it up with jocularity. She was missing Gilbert very much, and somehow being here, in his house, made the dull ache at the core of her heart even worse.

Mary rolled her eyes. ‘No, you silly goose. The fact that he loves you more than life itself. Honestly,’ she added, her voice growing serious, ‘I’ve never seen anything like the way he looks at you. And you can’t laugh it off as passing infatuation, because it’s been this way ever since I first saw you two together, back when you were just kids.’

Anne was silent a moment. ‘I know that,’ she said eventually. ‘I love him with my- my everything, and I know that it’s the same with him. It almost scares me sometimes. I think that’s why I fought off my feelings for him so long. I was scared. I still am, sometimes.’

To her surprise, Mary didn’t wave this comment off. ‘Yes,’ she said musingly. ‘It _is_ terrifying when one soul is split between two people. I don’t think, much as I love Bash, that I would wish it on myself and him.’

‘Then you _do_ understand, Mary!’ exclaimed Anne, shuddering a little. ‘Do you think it’s genuinely unfortunate? Please,’ she added earnestly, coming up to the older woman and clasping her pleadingly by the hand, ‘tell me the truth. You seem to know about those things, somehow.’

Mary looked straight into Anne’s eyes. ‘It would be the death of you two if either of you were a bad person. But you’re not. Both your hearts and your heads are in the right place. You’ll have a good, long, happy life together.’

Bash came in at this moment, saying something humorous, and Anne and Mary both laughed and let the intense, mystic mood which had prevailed in the room for a moment pass. The girl was glad that it should be so. Somehow, the mere fact that the older woman had noticed how deeply she and Gilbert were connected to each other made her a little uneasy. It was not a figment of her own overactive imagination if another person could notice it too.

‘Anne, there’s one more thing I wanted to speak to you about,’ said Mary after Bash left them alone again. ‘Only you must promise in advance not to get angry with me.’

The girl looked up from her basket of folded linen.

‘It’s about that accident from back in the winter, when Gilbert was here last. I wanted to talk to you about it earlier, but I could never get you alone. May I speak to you openly?’

‘Of course,’ replied Anne, somewhat taken aback.

‘It’s just this: I know you’re feeling resentful towards the people who seem to deny you the right to do what you want to, but trust me, many girls from where I come from would give everything to be granted this kind of protection. Anne,’ she said with earnestness, looking straight in the girl’s eyes, ‘an unexpected, unwanted pregnancy is almost _never_ a good beginning. Think about it - you’d have to give everything up. Gilbert would have to abandon his studies. You’d have hardly any time for all those extra courses you’re taking, and you couldn’t afford them anyway, because you’d have to give up teaching. And then there’d be a lifetime of mutual recriminations and rancour before you.’

Anne looked down at her hands. Mary’s words hardly conveyed to her anything she wasn’t already aware of, but to hear another person - a woman who knew that what she said was true by bitter experience - say them out loud somehow drove them home to her more forcibly than any amount of silent brooding on the matter in the privacy of her own mind could have done.

‘I’m sorry if I’ve embarrassed you. It’s just that I’ve been through enough myself to believe in honesty in these matters. So have you. I’m sure you know it’s no use prettying things up. ’

‘I do,’ put in Anne quickly, looking up. ‘And I’m not embarrassed; I’m ashamed of myself. You’ve seen through me,’ she said with an awkward little laugh. ‘I know I have the tendency to pretend that things whose existence I don’t want to admit simply aren’t there. But it’s no good in the long run, is it?’

‘No good,’ said Mary, taking the linen basket from the girl’s hands. Then she smiled. ‘I’m glad we’ve finally had the chance to talk all this out.’

 Anne returned the smile with a genuine one of her own. ‘I’m glad too.’

 

***

 

Anne lay in the darkness, engulfed by Gilbert’s scent: the sheets on the bed were not changed since the last time he had been home (she had asked Mary to leave them like this) and they, as well as the whole room, were pervaded with his personality.

It was simply incredible.

And it made her miss him like hell.

What was the use of feeling his presence all around her if at the same time she was painfully conscious of the fact that he was not here, and wouldn’t be until at least a week more? And then when he finally did come there would be the Easter holidays with all its trappings to go through, and the situation of winter would repeat itself and, what with Marilla’s increased vigilance, they would never get a moment to themselves. . .

It was to such dismal ruminations that Anne fell asleep, her face buried in Gilbert’s pillows and his covers wrapped tightly around her.

The next time she opened her eyes, she had no idea how long she had slept; what she knew was that, in the faint shadowy light of the moon that filled the room, she could see the doorknob turn slowly, cautiously, and the door creak open a slit.

She lay in silent terror, her childish beliefs in the supernatural, which she had never fully renounced, making her certain that her hour had come upon her.

A tall figure slipped into the room, a silhouette of denser black in the surrounding darkness. It took a tentative step towards the chest of drawers directly on its right, and, gropingly, lighted a candle.

Then Gilbert turned around and, at the sight of Anne lying stone-still in his bed and staring at him with wide, frightened eyes, stumbled backwards into the piece of furniture behind him.

At the same moment, there came the sound of a light knock at the door.

‘Anne? Are you awake? Has anything happened?’

This served to snap Anne out of her terrified trance. She fairly sprang out of the bed and, opening the door the smallest crack, whispered into the darkness outside,

‘I’m sorry. I got up to get myself some water to drink, and I accidentally knocked over some books--‘

‘I thought I heard someone moving around.’

‘Yes. It was me.’

‘Will you be all right now?’

‘Yes, of course. I’m sorry for being so clumsy.’

‘No worries. Go back to sleep, it’s only just past midnight.’

‘I will. Goodnight, Mary.’

‘Sleep tight.’

Anne closed the door and turned around very slowly.

Gilbert was still standing by the chest of drawers, staring at her in wide-eyed confusion.

‘What are you doing here?’

They both asked the question simultaneously, and then they both burst out into soundless laughter.

Feeling at the same time wonderfully relaxed and utterly surreal, Anne went over to where Gilbert was standing and kissed him softly on the mouth.

‘How did you get here?’ she asked, pulling away and looking up at him with disbelieving wonderment.

‘How did _I_ get here?’ he repeated, lifting his eyebrows in amusement. ‘Isn’t this _my_ bedroom?’

‘Well, yes, _that’s_ why _I’m_ here,’ answered Anne impulsively, rolling her eyes. ‘What I mean is why you’re here right now. At this hour. Right now.’

‘What do you mean, _that’s why you’re here_?’ countered Gilbert, who, as his eyes got accustomed to the dim light and took in more of Anne’s appearance, of her flimsy nightgown and dishevelled hair, found it somewhat hard to focus. ‘How on earth did you get Marilla to allow it?’

Anne sighed impatiently. ‘Of course she's allowed it. Mary took my side, so she simply couldn’t say no.’

‘ _Mary_ helped you convince Marilla to let you sleep _here_?’

‘Well, that was not part of the original plan,’ admitted Anne, having the decency to blush a little. ‘I was supposed to sleep in the guest room. But, _oh_ , Gil--‘ she breathed, reaching up to kiss him again, ‘I’ve missed you so much, and I thought it would made me feel better to spend a night here. But it didn’t. I just kept missing you more, because the bed smelled of you and yet you weren’t there, and I. . .’

‘Anne,’ Gilbert interrupted, his hands coming up to unwind her arms away from his neck. As she pressed herself against him he could feel the exquisite softness of her curves beneath the thin fabric of her nightgown, and it fairly made his mind reel. If she kept kissing him like this there was only one way this could end, and he had to take action while he still retained some control over his frantic brain. ‘Anne, I can’t stay in here any longer.’

Anne stared. She was still dazed with sleep, and also rather cold, and her one desire was to bury herself in Gilbert’s arms and rest in the warmth and security she knew she could find there. She wanted to get her fill of his kisses, yes, but she had at the moment no conscious thought of trying to seduce him.

Now, however, his strained tones and the familiar sternness of his expression made her for the first time realise how inappropriate the situation was, and also how much more trying to him than herself. He came in here to find her in his bed, in what could more or less be called a state of déshabillé, happily throwing herself all over him.

With rare prudence, Anne moved that slightest bit away from Gilbert, slipping her fingers through his.

‘What do you propose to do?’ she asked, schooling her features into the semblance of innocent concern.

Gilbert frowned a little. ‘What _is_ there to be done? It’s ridiculous how I got us into such a mess only because I wanted to--‘

‘Oh, I know!’ exclaimed Anne in an excited whisper, clasping his hand tighter. He started a little at the interruption, but her radiant smile called up a half-voluntary one of his own in response. ‘It’s perfectly simple. You have to stay inside the whole of tomorrow - I mean today - and then pretend you arrived twenty-four hours later than you really have. By that time I’ll be safely tucked away into my own bed, and--‘

‘Anne,’ he put in a little impatiently, ‘you seem to forget that this would require Bash and Mary’s connivance. They’d have to _lie_ for me.’

‘For _us_ ,’ she amended promptly. ‘I’ll talk to Mary and get her to cooperate, and you know she can get Bash to keep his mouth closed. _Please_ , Gil,’ she added, looking up at him imploringly. ‘There’s nothing to be gained by making a tragedy out of this when a small prevarication can get us out unscathed. Say you agree.’

Gilbert gave her an openly doubtful look. A sharp spark of anger flashed through Anne at this nonconformist attitude.

‘You are incredible, you know!’ she whispered vehemently, snatching her hands out of his and going over to sit on the edge of the bed. ‘Always _so_ honourable! But it doesn’t seem to cross your righteous mind that if Marilla gets to know about this there’ll be _no end_ of trouble! Not to mention how hard it’ll be on her to have the whole village gossip about us _again_! And all because the impeccably truthful _Doctor Blythe_ would not demean himself by telling a completely innocuous, harmless little white lie!’

With jerky, agitated movements, she threw back the covers and slid under them with her back turned upon him. 

She lay breathing hard, clenching her teeth in impotent anger. How _absurd_ Gilbert was! She had no patience with him. Now he would go to the guest room and spend the night gloating over how incorruptible and strong his power of will was. Very well, let him! And if he decided to break off their engagement in the morning, not wanting to be bound any longer to the scheming, lying trollop that _she_ was, so much the better.

It was so _very_ much the better that Anne began to cry, silently, with large tears slowly drenching Gilbert’s pillow.

The bed sagged a little, and she felt the warmth of another body pervade hers through the covers she was wrapped in.

Anne turned slowly round onto her other side. Gilbert was sitting beside her propped up against the headboard with his legs stretched out in front of him and his arms crossed.

As she turned towards him his eyes snapped to her face. She could barely make out his expression in the dark.

‘Would you like me better if I was a prim and proper modest little woman?’ Anne asked, somewhat sniffingly.

‘What’s that?’ Gilbert’s voice was indifferent, and was now looking in front of himself.

‘Like Ruby Gillis, for example. Or Diana.’

There was a moment of silence. Then Gilbert said,

‘Ruby and Diana are both very nice girls.’

‘Yes,’ said Anne through her teeth. ‘ _Very_.’

‘You, on the other hand--‘

‘Well?’

‘You,’ Gilbert whispered, turning round so that he was propped up on his elbow, looking down at Anne’s pale upturned face, the only part of her that was not swathed in the blankets, ‘ _you_ are the most infuriating, stubborn, impatient person I know. And,’ he added, his face so close to hers that she could feel his breath on her lips, ‘and I love you _so damn much_.’

With that, he pressed his mouth the hers, gently, lingeringly. Then he pulled away with a smile.

‘This was _not_ an answer to my question,’ said Anne, narrowing her eyes up at him. ‘The point is whether you’d like me better if--‘

‘Anne, there’s no question of my liking you better or worse than I do,’ he interrupted, shifting them so that, although still wrapped closely in the covers, she was now encircled by his arm and pressed close to his side. ‘I love you, and I could never love any other woman. Nothing you say or do will ever change that.’

‘I’m just trying to reach some kind of conclusion,’ objected Anne complainingly. ‘You’re always telling me how much you love me, and yet just a moment ago you were angry with me because I put to you a proposition that-- I don’t know, went against your moral code.’

‘I wasn’t angry.’

‘You were silently disapproving, which is far worse. It makes me want to _scream_.’

Gilbert smiled a crooked smile.

‘There’s nothing to grin about. You’ll have a hell of a life with me, you’ll see,’ said Anne darkly. ‘Not a day will go by without a quarrel.’

‘Nor a night, to be precise,’ he observed with mock seriousness. ‘Since it’s night-time now, and we’re quarrelling.’

‘ _Exactly_.'

They lay quietly for a moment, she listening to the steady beat of his heart and he breathing in the scent of her hair.

When Anne finally spoke, it was in a different tone.

‘Mary is an extraordinary woman.’

‘She is.’

‘She’s been through such a lot.’

‘So have you,’ Gilbert said quietly, stroking her hair with a slow, gentle movement. ‘And you’re both wonderful, brave women.’

Anne sighed. ‘She's made me see how childish I acted during that accident back in winter. Gilbert,’ she continued, sitting up a little so that she could look him in full in the face, ‘I’m sorry I’ve been so selfish. I’ve kept teasing you and blaming you for making me stop, because I thought it was just you being your usual high-principled self--‘

Gilbert, who had been listening to her with an expression of earnest intensity, smiled in spite of himself.

‘High-principled?’ he repeated, lifting his eyebrows a little.

‘Of course you _are_ ,’ sniffed Anne dismissively. ‘Maddeningly so. But the point is that I was acting both silly and cowardly in not admitting to myself that it was really wrong to keep trying to get you to--‘ she hesitated the least little bit over the words, but, determined to be completely open with him, went on, trying not to blush, ‘to have sex with me. Because it might-- well, I suppose it is no exaggeration to say that it might end up ruining both our lives.’

Gilbert kept gazing at her for a few seconds silently, his face drawn.

‘My life can never be ruined so long as _you_ are in it,’ he said eventually. ‘There’s nothing I want more than to be with you. Without you, nothing would make any sense.’

Anne knew by the tone of his voice that he meant it and that it was not mere pretty talk. Putting her palm against his cheek, she leant down to kiss him.

‘You know I’ll always be here,’ she said against his lips. ‘But,’ she added, lowering herself back down into the crook of his arm, ‘you must finish your studies, and my unexpected pregnancy would put an end to all that.’

He didn’t respond, merely went on stroking her hair.

‘Anyway,’ she said, taking a deep breath. ‘Not that in the foreseeable future we’re likely to have much chance of doing anything _remotely_ improper.’

‘Not a chance indeed,’ chuckled Gilbert. ‘It’s not like we’re in my bedroom in the middle of the night, all alone, unbeknownst to anyone.’

‘Exactly, and look at how perfectly innocently we’re behaving,’ said Anne, joining in in his quiet laugh. ‘I might grow into a prim and proper young lady yet. Just you wait.’

‘Don’t you dare,’ he murmured, holding her to himself a little tighter.

They didn’t speak after that, and the overall soothing effect his presence had on her soon lulled Anne to sleep.

She woke up with a vague feeling that she had not slept for long. She also woke up _to_ the feeling of Gilbert’s hard, warm body pressed close to her own from behind. She turned round slowly, so as not to wake him up. Somehow, he was shirtless. And Anne had never technically seen him shirtless before, certainly not like _this_.

Unable to stop herself, she reached out with her fingertips and ran them lightly down his chest to his stomach. His skin was so warm, and she was fascinated by the way his muscles rippled ever so slightly under her touch. She ran her hand all the way down to the belt of his trousers again.

Unexpectedly, his own fingers closed around her wrist and stilled her movements. She looked up, and saw that he was watching her out of half-opened eyes.

‘You shouldn’t be doing this,’ he whispered hoarsely.

‘Did I wake you up? I’m sorry.’

He gave her a crooked, sleepy smile. ‘I’ve got to remove myself to the other room anyway. I suppose there _are_ limits to how far Mary is prepared to go to save our faces.’

Anne pouted a little. ‘You aren’t _still_ sore about this, are you? Or do you wish you had left in a righteous huff?’

Raising himself on his elbow, he planted a kiss on the tip her nose. ‘Stop making me out such a puritan. You know that if I could I’d--’ he stopped, giving her another wry smile. ‘I’d better be going.’

‘Wait a minute,’ said Anne feverishly, clutching at his hand. ‘Just a moment. I want to remember what it’s like to be with you - like this.’

With a brief smile that didn’t reach his anxious eyes he subsided again beside her. They were both under the covers now - after Anne had fallen asleep Gilbert had gently slipped his arm from underneath her and, chucking his shirt away in an attempt to not feel quite so terribly hot, he lay down beside her tucked-in form, and soon fell asleep as well. Somehow, during the short few hours of darkness they had spent in his narrow bed they had come to share the covers, which made the situation they were in now even more intimate than it had been before.

Anne pressed herself close to his side, soft curves against his hard, tense body. She put her head on his chest, her hair spilling over his naked skin. He inhaled deeply, his arm going up to encircle her shoulders. As he did so, his fingers brushed against her breast. It was an only the slightest, feather-like touch, but it sufficed to make Anne shiver in spite of herself, all the more so because it made her go back in her mind to the day of Diana’s wedding, and the feverish interlude she had spent upon that occasion with Gilbert in the library of her friend’s house.

Gilbert now lay very still, and Anne could not help supposing he was getting impatient at her refusal to help him preserve the last vestiges of decency by removing himself from the room as quickly as possible.

However, his next words proved her to have been wrong.

‘Are there any weddings upcoming this summer?’ he asked, and she instantly knew that he was thinking about that few moments’ madness at the Barrys’ as well.

She looked up and met his eyes. He was watching her with a smirk that made blood tingle in her veins.

‘I don’t know,’ she said, really, at the moment, not knowing. ‘Why?’

‘I was just wondering,’ he whispered, his fingertips skimming the curve of her waist, ‘when you would next have the chance of wearing that perfectly wonderful dress of yours—‘

With an impatience she could not contain, Anne caught his wrist in her hand and guided his tantalisingly moving fingers to one her goosebumps-covered breasts.

‘Isn’t _this_ better than even the most wonderful dress?’ she asked, letting out a small gasp as his thumb began circling her already hardened nipple.

Instead of replying, Gilbert shifted so that his face was buried in her neck, showering it with kisses as his other hand joined in caressing her breasts. ‘Much, much better,’ he murmured, his voice reverberating through her body in a delicious way.

Anne pulled his face up for a real, hard kiss on the lips.

‘I love you so much,’ she breathed in between kisses, arching her chest into his touch. ‘Gil, I love you so much it makes me scared.’

‘Don’t be,’ he countered, his lips frantic against her own. ‘Don’t be. Nothing could ever take me away from you, I swear it. I swear it, Anne.’

‘I know.’

After a few moments more, Gilbert pulled away with a rueful smile. Anne, knowing she oughtn’t to, wound her arms tighter around his neck.

‘I don’t want to go to sleep and then wake up not to find you here,’ she said, her exaggerated pout making him chuckle. ‘Oh, Gil, can you _imagine_ what bliss it will be to always get to stay up and wake up together?’

‘Oh, _Anne_ ,’ he replied mockingly, though the intense tenderness in his eyes belied his light-hearted tones. ‘You do realise, don’t you, that people get ill and call in doctors at all times, at night as often as during the day?’

‘I am certain of having my ways of making you stay in bed.’

She felt Gilbert’s fingers dig into her waist. ‘Such as?’ he asked in a barely audible whisper, his lips on her ear and his hot breath on her neck making her writhe underneath him.

‘Unplugging the telephone.’

They both burst out laughing, albeit quietly. Then, with a last peck on Anne’s lips, Gilbert slid out of the bed.

Instantly, she felt colder than ever before.

‘You look very sung in there,’ he remarked with a smirk.

Anne gave a disgruntled sniff. ‘I’m _not_. I’m cold as hell.’

‘What language for a prim and proper young lady to use!’

‘Oh, _go away_!’

She threw a pillow at him, which he fortunately caught before it could knock anything over and disrupt Mary’s – or, worse still, Bash’s – slumbers again. Then, sending her a last regretful smile over his shoulder, he slid out of the room.


End file.
